"You've got a bit of..." Johnson gestured vaguely to my face, and grimaced. "Here." He handed me a handkerchief.
"Thanks." I wiped my face well.
"No, you're missing it. Here." He took the handkerchief and rubbed at my chin.
I stood still for it for a moment. I wasn't used to people stepping into my space and touching me. He was so concentrated on getting me cleaned up. I could've seen the whites of his eyes if he hadn't been wearing sunglasses.
"You'll need to wash up, I can't get every—"
"Come on." I pushed him away gently. "Let's clear up the carp and then check in with the PRA."
"Your parole officers, you mean." He folded away his handkerchief and gave me a wry smile.
I pretended I hadn't heard him.
NOW, I'M NOT ENTIRELY useless (whatever Travis would tell you). I just don't always think things through. This time, I thought I did pretty well. We went to get the carp, which Johnson had left floating in the river and which, by the time we'd gotten there, was starting to attract attention.
"You need to create a distraction so I can ball it."
"Don't look at me. Let it float. Everybody thinks it's a dead whale."
I sighed. "Look, someone will—"
"Then it's another weird unidentified flesh lump and nobody gives a shit after two days. Come on, Steven. Act your age. It's too late."
A mother, whose child had been pointing at the "dead whale," gave us a glare and edged her child away, covering his ears.
"Yeah, maybe you could talk a little louder, buddy," I snapped at him, catching his elbow and pulling him away with me. "Fine, it's a flesh lump. But they won't be happy."
He shrugged. "Maybe if they had some decent agents on the job, I wouldn't have had to deal with it."
"Why did you, anyway?"
He rolled his eyes and drew away from me fastidiously. "Really, Steven. Rampaging monsters are so overrated! It's not good for the placid cattle to be disturbed. Ruins the taste, for one thing."
"Of course this is about blood." I rolled my eyes.
He reached out and pressed a gloved finger lightly against my cheek, then drew it away and licked it. "Of course."
"Ew! Did you just taste my blood?" I must've had a cut on my face. I batted him away, but it was too late.
He was already grimacing. "O positive. How tasteless!"
"Oh, thanks!" I was offended on behalf of my dull blood. I walked off.
"O pos is like cabbage," he said helpfully as he headed after me, hurrying to catch up. "You can eat it. If you were starving, it might even taste good."
"Some people like cabbage." I sniffed. "Sauerkraut. Cole slaw. Um. Other things."
"Cabbage rolls," he added helpfully, jogging now to keep up with me. "Cabbage soup."
"Oh, thanks."
"Anytime, Cabbage Soup," he said magnanimously.
"What do you know, anyway? You're just a giant mosquito."
Trading barbs was all very well—and much more enjoyable when he wasn't winding Travis up with the whole predatory vampire act—but making sure he was at least marginally safe to bring inside was another thing.
While we were still walking and talking, I did my party trick: I briefly froze time and moved closer to him. He was midstride as if in a freeze-frame, mouth open to say something else, expression animated. Interesting how he kept his face in the shade of his hat, no matter what. Maybe he'd done it so much it was automatic.
I moved closer and quickly searched him for weapons, concealed or otherwise. I could only hold time still for a couple of moments, so I made it a quick search. I had a lot of practice; it's kind of my specialty.
I found his ID—a vampire that carried ID!—and glanced at it. His name was Barnaby Johnson. Real tough. I'd never seen his whole face at once, so I couldn't tell if his driver's license looked like him or not. He looked like an emaciated convict, so probably he looked like his photo about the same as anyone resembled their driver's license photo.
I put it back again quickly, fumbling with his jacket, returning it to exactly the right spot. I found no weapons. He was skinny as a rail, with well-fitted clothes under that oversized duster. He was kind of a twink.
I'd accidentally tilted the side of his collar as I checked him over, and now I saw and heard at the same time the faint sizzle beginning, even with time paused like this. Sunlight was hitting his cheek.
Crap! I adjusted the collar quickly, twitching it back into place. I could feel my hold on time slipping, so I fixed his clothes as fast as I could to just as they'd been—jacket flapped open just so, holding still in the gravity of time—and moved quickly back to just where I'd been in my stride before unfreezing time.
The second I let it drop and continued on just as before (if feeling slightly more breathless), he startled and looked about him quick, wild-eyed. "What just—" Then he grimaced and reached up and slapped at the side of his neck as if an insect had bitten him. "Ow. What just—"
"Mosquitoes bite you, too?" I asked innocently. "How's that for irony? Biting the biter. Recycling at its finest. Do you taste better, I wonder, or worse?"
"Ugh. Don't. Something was just here—something fast." He stopped walking. "Was it you? Did you freeze time and prick me or something?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said smoothly. "Are you coming or not?"
He narrowed his eyes at me, but continued walking with me—not quite as closely. He rubbed his neck a little more, and forgot to banter with me.
I jogged up the big stone steps and let him into the PRA building, shielding the keypad with my body as he craned his neck curiously, trying to get a peek. I punched in my code quickly, glad that all the buttons had the same toneless beep so he couldn't figure it out later by memory and sound alone.
"You're being unfair," he said, hands on my sides, scrabbling ticklishly, trying to move me. "Don't you trust me? Do I have to remind you I saved your life?"
"Would you stop that?" I tried to elbow him, but he was too fast. He moved out of range and then right back, fingers digging in at my sides even though the code was already in, the door already open. His breath huffed close to the back of my neck, making hairs rise.
Definitely just trying to tickle me. I smothered the laugh reflex—barely—and led him inside, dodging away from him as he wriggled his fingers towards my ribs again. Did he know I hadn't been quite truthful? Maybe this was his way of paying me back. "Watch where you put those, you big mosquito."
"Well, I am big," he said, giving me a camp look and a raised eyebrow as he slipped off his sunglasses now that we were indoors. It was easier to read his expressions without them.
"Promises, promises." I led him inside. When he started to swish to the right down an intriguing-looking, half-lit hall, I grabbed him by the elbow and steered him with me.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!"
"Promises, promises," I sing-songed at him. He punched me on the arm. Hard. "Ow." The twink-pire packed a punch.
He gave me a quick, guilty look, brows drawing up and together, looking for a moment as if he'd forgotten his own strength. Now he stuck close beside me, almost apologetic. It was stupid of me to think of him as just another guy. He was, obviously, a monster.
Unlike me, who definitely wasn't.
The PRA headquarters were way too large for the staff we normally had, but seemed even more ridiculously empty now that it was just me and Beatrice. It was a big, old stone building which had once been something municipal. Aside from the basement—all sorts of technology I wasn't allowed to know about—there were areas for containment of paranormal creatures waiting to be re-homed, as well as storage areas for artifacts I could've sold for a pretty penny on the black market.
All that, and still room for living quarters. Most of the PRA agents lived on-site. Including me, because I was on parole and that was part of the bargain.
If I'd been slightly less of a good person, I'd have taken advantage of their absence now to break my parole, steal s
ome stuff, and disappear. Yeah, I could've broken parole and probably gone for a long time without consequences. Maybe forever. With my attention span, a long time could feel like forever. I wasn't used to thinking about the future too much. Funny, for someone who can freeze time.
But the main reason I didn't try to slip away was that I didn't want to. I didn't like the idea of them being trapped somewhere. Or dead, obviously. But being trapped was the worst thought. Trapped, needing a rescue, and me taking advantage of that to run away? No. I might not be the greatest person in the world, but that wasn't me. This was my one chance to be a hero, by not fucking up when people really needed me. I was trying to do my best with this chance.
But sometimes I still wished I had the access codes to the storage rooms. A nest egg from re-homed PRA baubles wouldn't have gone amiss, and might've helped me not stray from the straight and narrow, once my parole was over. All I'm saying.
It was a moot point. I was too busy chasing after creatures to figure out how to get past their security systems, much less find the time to fence anything. And there'd be no fencing when they got back; they ran a tight ship here. You wouldn't think I'd wish them back so much, knowing all of that, but I did. I desperately wanted to wake up and find they were all alive and back at work. I was ready to stop being the responsible party.
"Where are we going?" the vampire asked, when I headed towards a restroom.
"I have to clean up first," I told him.
He quirked an eyebrow at me and gave me a little smile. "And you want me to watch?"
I rolled my eyes. "You'll live. I'm not leaving you to wander around, and I'm not walking around like this all day."
"Well, you are gross," he conceded.
"Thanks." I took us to the nearest big restroom, where I had a cubbyhole with a change of clothes in case I needed it. I needed it today. He leaned against a sink as I washed up. I scrubbed my face and hands, neck and arms, then threw on a fresh shirt before I was completely dry.
He didn't comment, but I felt almost more exposed than if he had. He looked away politely when I changed my jeans. I wasn't sure what to think about that, so I chose not to.
If he wasn't a vampire, if I wasn't changing in front of him because I had to, there'd probably be some sexual tension here. Or something. Dressed and mostly clean, I led the way to the library. I'd decided to brazen it out with Beatrice. In for a penny and all that.
The library was one of the biggest sections in the whole damn building, and that was saying something. Walls stretched high to a vaulted stone ceiling, and all of them were filled with books. More information filled banks of computer storage that had their own power source in the basement, and another backup system on top of that. Worlds of knowledge filled this space. It was intimidating as hell.
I didn't mind Beatrice, who'd never treated me like a criminal, despite everything, and who obviously had some faith in me, to be willing to work with me now. But all those books...it reminded me of high school and failed tests. I got itchy just thinking about all those books.
Beatrice sat at her desk as usual, a massive hardwood number. She'd been typing aggressively at a laptop and had several books open in front of her.
I announced loudly, "Ms. Wexler? I've hired a consultant." I gestured to the vampire, up and down, like I was displaying his skinny and overly-clad body to her. A real treat, no doubt. "He's going to look for those few missing agents of ours." I tried to sound like I wasn't nervous.
"I am?" said Johnson, amused now. "I thought I was going to consult."
"Same difference."
The initial shock hit Beatrice hard. Her jaw dropped and she looked as appalled as if I'd let in a giant spider and announced it was my new best buddy, and wouldn't she like to kiss it on the nose, assuming spiders actually have noses, which I wouldn't know. It's not my job to know that—but Beatrice would. She would definitely know about spider noses.
She got ahold of herself quickly. Jaw up and squared, brows rising, she pushed her glasses down to peer at us dubiously over their tortoiseshell rims. "Have you now? I'm not certain your partner would approve of that...hire."
"I'm sure he wouldn't. When we find him, he can tell me all about it." I leaned against a desk casually, trying to look like I had no doubts about any of this. Calm and sensible, that's me.
She looked at me distastefully. She didn't say anything, but turned back to face Johnson. "What makes you think you can be any use to us?"
"Well, for one thing, I've got a pretty face." He gave her a tentatively charming smile, as if hoping that would help, but not expecting much.
She snorted—not an everyday librarian reaction, let me tell you. Then she snorted again, and reached for a handkerchief and blew her nose loudly, another unexpected occurrence. "Excuse me. I'm allergic to vampires."
"Are you? How unfortunate. I'm allergic to dust." He brushed the top of the dust and theatrically rubbed his fingers together, as if sprinkling the dust he would definitely not have found there, unless it was as invisible as our missing agents. He raised an eyebrow of his own. "How many agents are missing? How did it happen?"
Beatrice said, calmly, "Ten."
It was a good answer. Ten agents was enough to be concerned about, enough to leave us short staffed and me under-monitored, but not enough to leave the whole PRA vulnerable to a single vampire.
He nodded, looking thoughtful. She'd pulled it off. If I'd said it, I'm pretty sure he'd have figured out I was lying, but she didn't turn a hair.
"As far as we can tell, they all disappeared at once—or within five minutes from first to last," said Beatrice. "Obviously we didn't get enough instrument readings to be certain, but that's the timeline we've been able to piece together so far." She looked at me, as if prompting me to do or say something. I stared back blankly.
Beatrice sighed. "Steven can take you to see a room from which two of our missing agents disappeared at the same time. Perhaps you can sense something. You may also show him the tape, Steven." She addressed me like I was being given homework that she wasn't sure I was bright enough to tackle without help.
"Oh, sure, yes, right." I straightened up, and flicked Johnson on the arm. "Come on, Mosquito Man."
He didn't retort or flick me back, so he was still feeling guilty about the punch earlier. Ha. Interesting to know that vamps could get guilt trips. It could come in useful.
"Is she always that scary?" he asked, keeping his voice low. He walked so close he almost stepped on my heels.
I caught him by the elbow and dragged him level with me, so he wouldn't trip us both. "She's a librarian, so, of course."
BARNABY JOHNSON ROCKED back on his heels, arms crossed, and sighed. We'd watched the few disappearances that the security systems had captured. Several times now.
I was getting a cramp from sitting still for so long, and a brain cramp from trying to concentrate for so long. He seemed just as restless.
"I'm hungry," he announced. "I don't think well when I'm hungry." He looked at me and raised a brow.
I snorted. "What, you want me to run down to the blood bank and get you something?"
"If you'd be so good. As I said, not in the mood for cabbage."
I got up, and he took my seat without so much as a by-your-leave, and began to swivel in it.
"If you'd hurry up, there's a good fellow."
"You're kidding. I'm not feeding you. Either help or get out of here. Some of us have work to do."
"I've been doing it all for you. Now how about that blood? You wouldn't want me to leave here and slake my thirst on some poor, innocent civilian because I'm too hungry to be sensible and you weren't a good host."
"I don't have any blood bank access," I said. There was a small amount of blood on hand in case of medical emergencies—or creatures who could eat nothing else. I wasn't a medic, and nobody would trust me with feeding even the less dangerous creatures.
"Then get one of your powerful coworkers to do it. They can commission things with a snap
of the fingers, can't they? I prefer B positive. Thanks."
I stared at him. Unfortunately, I should have frozen time to give myself a chance to think. I shouldn't have let him see my face.
"Ha!" He hopped up, pointing at me. "I knew it! They're all gone, aren't they? Why would you take me to meet the librarian otherwise? Well, well, well!" He looked far too triumphant.
"They are not. Just busy, that's all. We've had a major disappearance here, and—"
"Fine. Show me one."
"I can't, they're—"
"Call one." He shoved my phone into my hand. His skin was cool to the touch, unnaturally so.
I shied away from the contact, stammering something. His expression changed, flickering with hurt for an instant. He covered it almost as quickly as a time-freezer could have, though. He was impassive yet disdainful all at once.
"You must be terrible at poker," he said.
"Not really," I muttered. "I just look at everybody's cards."
That startled him enough to make him laugh—but not for long.
"If they're really all gone...if the PRA isn't just getting lazy..." He sank back to the chair, swiveling thoughtfully, hands on the chair's arms. "Well, you guys are in some deep shit."
"Thanks," I said sarcastically. "I'd never have thought of that, Mr. Consultant."
"Oh, don't be so prickly. Was there a big case everyone but you and the librarian were working on?"
"You know there wasn't! That's not how this place works."
"Okay." He took a deep breath—did he even need to breathe?—and got a concentrating sort of look on his face, perplexed and serious and thoughtful. "Your special power is the ability to manipulate time slightly, but not for very long."
"For long enough."
"Fine, for long enough. Do you know if you manipulated time to save yourself from disappearing?"
I raised and lowered my shoulders. "Of course I've frozen time to keep from being hit by a car, stuff like that. But I didn't notice anything dangerous the day they disappeared."
"Did any of them have your time ability?"
How to Hire A Vampire Consultant Page 2
