How to Hire A Vampire Consultant

by Hollis Shiloh

  He just wouldn't let that drop, would he? "Maybe you have a bond with him yourself."

  "No such luck. Come on, let's talk to the luck expert and see what she says."

  "ANYTHING AT ALL?" BARNABY asked, leaning on her desk. "Even the teensiest, tinsiest psychic connection to someone?" He gave her his most appealing smile, which made him look like a pale youth, not a dangerous vampire.

  This case was definitely making me see him in a new light. I wasn't sure I'd be able to go back to seeing him like I used to once everything was back to normal—assuming we ever got back to normal.

  I could see Beatrice was uncomfortable, but wasn't sure why. Either she didn't like him that close, or he was getting close to something she didn't want to admit.

  "Something small, perhaps, that we could exploit?" said Barnaby.

  I pulled him back by the shoulder and took his place leaning against the desk, pushing him away a bit to give me room. "Perhaps a sexual connection?" I suggested. "Just something that might leave a kind of residual connection you could use to—"

  "Oh god." She covered her face in her hands. "You two will never stop asking, will you?"

  "Well, no. If it's the difference between saving them and letting them die a horrible death..."

  "I don't think you should be embarrassed," said Barnaby. "Sex is great. Sex is wonderful." He sent me a speculative look, a smile in his eyes. He didn't quite look me up and down and lick his lips, but it was really close to that—with, annoyingly, the perfect amount of lighthearted humor. That's kind of my weakness when it comes to flirting. I was going to have sex with him, wasn't I?

  She sighed, rubbed her eyes, and uncovered her face. She looked even older than usual as she sighed again. "It was only the once. But there was definitely...a connection." Her cheeks were kind of flushing, weren't they? I held my tongue. She wasn't going to want to be teased about this. Also, we hadn't gotten the name out of her yet.

  "Great!" Barnaby slapped a hand down on the desk. "Don't need a name! Just reach out to the person and try to connect. It would help if you're good at meditating or projecting or anything like that, but honestly, with your slight psychic ability and odds-influencing, it should be no problem for you. Just think about what you want—about getting it." He leaned closer to her, his expression intense. "And what you want is to reach the person, for them to figure it out, and for all of them to follow your beacon back home."

  "I've got that part," said Beatrice with as much dignity as possible. She made a faint shooing motion, a look of distaste on her face. "Give me some space, please, both of you."

  We got off her desk, looked at each other, and then looked away. Then back again. "Come on," I said. "Let's see if I can get us into the blood bank so you can have a snack." Wasn't sure I could get into it without the proper codes, but hell, it was worth a try.

  "Aw, I'm touched," said Barnaby, taking me by the elbow and waltzing—there was no other word for that level of swishiness—out of the library by my side.

  I grinned and let myself be led.

  "Although I've got a better idea," he said, after we were in the hall and out of hearing range. His voice had gone low and rough and super sexy all of the sudden. "How about we fuck?"

  My throat felt a little dry. I cleared it. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah. We should probably stay out of her hair. So why don't we christen some out-of-the-way area of the PRA? Think about that. The two of us fucking right under their noses, sort of. That would stick it to the man." He grinned.

  "So it's sticking-it-to-the-man sex, not for funsies?"

  "Well, of course it's for funsies." He gave me an offended look. "Isn't that where we've been going with this?" He gestured between the two of us, almost tapping my chest. "I thought that's where we were going with the looks and flirting and chemistry."

  I cleared my throat again. "Just wanted to be sure we were on the same page." How unlike me to be shy.

  "Great!" He patted my chest with both hands. "Now take a shower, because you kinda stink."

  I let my grin widen from embarrassed to lascivious. "Care to join me?"

  He held eye contact with me for several moments, long heartbeats, and grinned, biting his lip slightly. His teeth didn't look all that sharp, really. "Thought you'd never ask."

  We went to the nearest bathroom. A big place, with several toilet stalls and a couple of shower cubicles. Totally private at the moment.

  Under the bright bathroom lighting, he looked even skinnier and paler. It felt good to touch him. His fingers were strangely tentative at first, like he wasn't sure he was allowed, or wasn't used to doing this. I wondered when he'd had his last hookup, if it was long decades ago, or last week.

  I wondered if this was a hookup, or something more. Like he'd said, there was chemistry here. I almost didn't want to rush things.

  But we were naked and under the hot water, and it felt good to run my hands along his cool body, which was warming up rapidly under the hot shower spray. Kissing, kissing, touching, and stroking, there was an easiness about this that felt so right, like we'd always known we could trust each other. Yet it was still as exciting as any first time. I wanted to touch him all day long.

  We kissed a long time, warming up under the hot water, running hands along each other's skin. He was skinny enough I could feel his ribs prominently, but he felt healthy enough in other ways. I wondered about things, such as whether he was skinny because that's how he'd been before he was turned into a vampire, or because he didn't eat enough. I didn't ask.

  But I couldn't keep all of my wandering thoughts to myself. "Can your mentor hear us now?" I didn't feel like being an exhibitionist for some old geezer to get his rocks off.

  He gave a soft snort of laughter, not very happy. "No. He's dead."

  That was a surprise. He'd sounded like the kind of guy who could survive anything. "What, he survived the ghost-trap and died some other way?"

  "Yeah. Your guys got him. The PRA, a couple of years ago. Don't mind that. I don't."

  I stared at him, couldn't help it. I didn't know what to think. The PRA had offed his mentor, and he was still willing to help us? Or maybe this was all an elaborate kind of revenge after all. I drew back slightly, looking at him, trying to understand.

  Barnaby sighed and ran a hand back over his slick, wet hair. He looked so vulnerable here with me, naked and open-faced, soft and a little sad. His eyes held a complicated mix of feelings.

  "He really went off the deep end, towards the end," Barnaby explained reluctantly. "Somebody had to take him down. I'm glad it wasn't me." Then he kissed me again, and I kissed him, and we got down to business in earnest. He seemed like he wanted to forget about it, and I told myself I wouldn't make any other possibly mood-ruining comments to get in the way of this shower sex.

  It was wonderful. He was careful and giving, not as sure of himself as he'd acted—although he was great at everything. He clearly had some experience. He was hot stuff, but didn't seem to realize just how hot, which somehow was even more appealing to me.

  Maybe I was into twinks after all—at least, as long as they were older than me, which he almost certainly was.

  Or maybe I was just into him.

  I wanted to keep touching him forever, there, under the hot water, just the two of us. He made me want things I wasn't sure I could ever have.

  I pushed those thoughts away the best I could and just enjoyed the moment. I'd always been great at that. I shouldn't change now.

  "I'M SURPRISED," I MANAGED afterwards, trying to sound chill and not winded and blown away by what we'd just done in the shower. "You didn't even try to snatch a bite."

  He made a small face as he dried his skinny frame off. I hoped I hadn't left any bruises. Who knew how long they might take to heal, how much extra blood he might have to drink? "I told you, I'm not hungry for cabbage. Anyway, what's this obsession with mixing food and sex? I'm not into that."

  Fair enough. I was finally starting to understand him. Eating wasn't se
xual for me. It was great, but when I was with a hot guy, I didn't want a hamburger as well. I'd rather enjoy both separately and take my time. "So your thing about Travis really isn't sexual?"

  "Hell no." He shuddered. "He'd be an asshole in bed, don't you think?" Barnaby glanced at me. "Plus I doubt he even swings our way."

  I snorted. "No. He's all about the ladies." And as bossy as he was on the job? Yeah, I wouldn't want to get anywhere near him in bed. Not my scene.

  He glanced at me again. "When this is over..."

  "Yeah?" I looked at him, then stepped nearer. I took the towel from him and started gently rubbing his hair dry. "When this is all over?" I repeated. "You trying to say goodbye to me? Also, you seem pretty confident we're going to get everyone back."

  "What's the point of life if you can't stay optimistic?" He leaned slightly into my touch, like it felt great.

  The point of life...from a vampire's point of view. Was he even, technically, alive? I decided that if it walked and talked like a duck, it was a duck, whatever the experts would say. They're usually assholes anyway, and would label me some kind of abomination as well.

  "Anyway, when this is over." He cleared his throat. "I wouldn't mind seeing you again. If you stick around. Or if you don't. I mean, we probably can't make such free use of the facilities next time..."

  I snorted. "I'll say." This was a communal restroom. Spacious and clean for our current needs, but way too public on a normal day. "We could get a room."

  I didn't have a place of my own. Being on parole, I lived here, where they could keep an eye on me. It saved on rent, which was good, but it wasn't exactly the kind of room I could invite Barnaby back to. Unless they stayed missing forever, which I wasn't hoping for.

  "Yeah. We could. Or I have an apartment." He gave me a shy little grin that looked kind of triumphant. "I won't tell you where yet, though. A guy likes to maintain some mystery."

  It's a little late for that, I wanted to say. But I also didn't want to put him down or make him feel bad about our shower sex. There was a connection here, and it wasn't time to joke. He seemed a little vulnerable just now, like it hadn't been just a quick fuck for him, either.

  I didn't fully understand our chemistry, but I wouldn't mind exploring it further. And not just in bed.

  "What do you mean if I stick around here or not?" I pulled a shirt on, watching him as he did the same. "You think I'm leaving anytime soon? If nothing else, my parole's barely started."

  He looked surprised. "Don't you think they'll let you off early for helping to save them all?"

  I snorted. "Not likely. Anyway, they want me to have proper employment, not go back to..." I lifted my brows, deciding I'd rather not say exactly what I used to do. Hinting was fine. Getting caught on camera admitting something, just in case this place was actually bugged, wasn't.

  Of course, I hadn't thought of that when we were having sex, so maybe I wasn't as shy as I'd thought.

  He nodded, accepting it. "Well, I'd better get out of here before they get back."

  "What? We might need you again."

  He smirked. "Obviously." He waggled his eyebrows. "I'm hard to forget."

  I rolled my eyes. "Not that. Although, yeah. But I mean, we might need you to help get them back."

  "I've done all I can do." He shrugged. "They won't want a vampire around when they get back."

  "If they make it back," I muttered.

  "I've got a good feeling about it." He gave me a little grin that made him look slightly fierce and feline, with those ridiculous, barely-pointed teeth of his. His eyes were warm and his face lit by a friendly look, like laughter but not quite. "I think it would upset them an awful lot to be surprised by me, after everything else."

  "But you helped so much."

  He raised and lowered his shoulders. "They're not going to know that at first. You can explain it to them later." He stepped closer, leaned in, and gave me a light kiss. "See you, cowboy," he said in a low, husky voice.

  I ran my hands down his sides, and held him close while I kissed him back, properly. He was worth kissing properly. I let him go. "You know, you should really consider wearing a color other than black."

  "What? But it's so classic."

  "Your call. You'd look cuter in blue, though."

  "Oh, now you're saying I don't look cute enough?" he teased, giving me a wink. "You weren't saying that a minute ago."

  "A minute ago you weren't dressed for a funeral. Go with your true twink nature and be cute." I gave him a wink back.

  "Twink! I'm not a twink! I'll have you know, I'm—I'm a twunk at the very least!" He gave me a small shove as if to prove how fierce he was. Of course, he could have shoved me much harder if he'd wanted to—probably send me flying across the room—but the light shove, designed very much not to hurt me, made me laugh.

  I caught one of his slim wrists and drew it up to my mouth, gave it a kiss. "Twink."

  "You're ridiculous. I'm so not a twink! But we can continue this later. I've got to get out of here. If they see me, you know they'll blame me." He abandoned talking to throw on more clothes.

  Of course, he couldn't exactly grab his things and run—not unless he wanted to be burned to a crisp. Even on an overcast day.

  I debated asking him why he shouldn't stick around to offer emotional support to Beatrice, but I knew very well she found him about as comforting as a dead gollot.

  I felt bad for him having to rush off, but maybe this wasn't really about my coworkers at all. Maybe this was about needing some space after having sex, to pull himself together and not feel so vulnerable. If so, I could play along and pretend to believe him.

  A FEW MINUTES LATER, Barnaby safely escorted from the building—without even a pause for another quick kiss, more shame that—I strolled back into the library and tried to look casual.

  I was ready to ask Beatrice how it was going. I'd play it cool, and most of all, not look like I'd just had sex with a vampire. I also needed to convince myself that I wasn't totally enchanted with that vampire.

  Beatrice was sitting at her desk with a faraway, sad look on her face. I meant to announce my presence, but felt too self-conscious to do that when I saw her expression. It looked like she was having a private moment, or at least feeling really sad about something.

  I didn't doubt she was trying to work her connection for all it was worth, as well as her luck. It had to be hard, doing it alone, with no clue if it would even work. She turned a pen over and over in her fingers casually, thinking so hard that she didn't even notice me. I thought it best not to interrupt.

  It occurred to me that I should probably be helping. Or at least, doing something. Neatening up the desk or library? Yeah, right. But maybe my talent would be of some use now.

  Briefly, I thought about how Barnaby's theory might be entirely bullshit. Maybe there was nothing we could do to help. Maybe they were lost forever. Or maybe he was even wrong about what had snatched them.

  I discarded those ideas. His was the only working theory we had that offered a chance of retrieving our coworkers. While I didn't necessarily trust him completely, I did trust him, enough to bring him here, believe his advice, and you know...the whole shower thing. So yeah, I thought he probably had more insight into all of this than I did.

  Beatrice's talent had saved her, mine had saved me. And maybe there was still a way to bring the others back. I found a comfortable place in the library in one of the leather armchairs where I had a little privacy but could still keep half an eye on Beatrice. Then I settled myself in to try to use my own talent to help.

  It was hard to get past my disbelief that I could do anything useful with my time ability, but I thought it was worth it, especially with so many lives at stake. I could afford to feel a bit silly and really put in the effort to try. Beatrice was clearly giving her all and had been for a while. Why not help? I didn't have any special bond with any of them, but maybe that didn't really matter as much as Barnaby had thought.

  Worth a t
ry. I settled in and focused.

  My talent wasn't really a major thing. Yeah, I could freeze time (briefly, just long enough to sneak a peek at some information or snatch something without getting caught), but I couldn't change time for anyone else, reverse it, or anything spectacular like that. It was just a little skill that was extremely useful for a possibly less than law abiding man such as myself.

  Would I have been law abiding if I'd grown up without this oh-so-convenient ability? I had no idea. I didn't particularly want to know, either.

  Anyway, how to use my talent to help Beatrice use her talent, both of which seemed pretty damned useless at the moment, whatever Barnaby said. (And damn, Barnaby, wet and slippery under my hands in the shower...)

  Focus. I could do this. Or at least, I owed it to the PRA to try. Sure, I didn't always like all of these people—probation not being a life goal of mine—but they did good work most of the time, even I knew that. We needed them back to deal with all the gollots and giant carp and such. And when it came down to it, I didn't wish this fate on them. They didn't deserve it.

  I closed my eyes and focused. It's not that I felt anything change, exactly, but I felt more focused and aware than usual, as if I was slowing down, rather than time. That wasn't how I normally felt, using my talent.

  It was kind of like meditating or something. Not that I'd ever been focused enough to meditate properly. But now I reached inward in a new way, while trying to push my talent together with Beatrice's, to lend her something, to bend my talent to work with hers. Something was happening, although I wasn't sure what.

  My fingers tingled. Weird how well I was concentrating, when usually, that's an issue for me on a regular day, much less trying to do something like this—abstract, odd, challenging. Then I realized it was probably Beatrice's luck, giving me a better sense of focus than I had most of the time.

  Was her luck that powerful? I was betting on it. We all were.