Encounters with Evil Pt. 05

"At what point did you notice your extreme reaction to Mel?"

Guy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking back. "Right away. The first time I saw him I was ready to lay down my life to protect him. And when I caught his scent ... I've never smelled anything so intoxicating in my life. It makes my blood boil with need—even now just thinking about it. When I'm away from him, my skin crawls and the only thing I can think about is getting close to him again." He snapped his eyes open and clenched his fist in frustration. "Fuck, Ed! What the hell am I going to do? You've got to give me something to cure me."

He heard the smile in Ed's voice when he said, "There is no cure, Salucci. You're going to have to figure out how to live with this. My suggestion is that you mate with him, soon and often. That should lessen your need."

"What? I can't possibly!" Guy jumped to his feet and started to pace back and forth in the tiny room. "I don't have any control over myself when I get close to him like that. It's like I get taken over by a sex demon." Guy's voice broke when he said, "I almost took him raw, Ed! No prep, no lube ... Christ, forgive me. I almost raped a virgin!" He sat down abruptly on the edge of the couch and put his head in his hands, pulling on his short curls in anguish. Memories of his own first time swept over him, causing such a visceral reaction he started to gag.

Ed had an uncanny ability to know what he was thinking. His voice was firm when he said, "You are nothing like Derrick, Sal. Don't even compare yourself with that monster. I don't think you're capable of truly hurting Mel—a few bruises, maybe, but no real damage."

Guy was too busy trying to get his breathing back to normal to answer. His body shuddered with remembered pain. Finally he whispered, "You don't know what it's like, Ed. I am blinded by need. Once I get started, I don't think I'll be able to stop."

"You stopped this time."

"That's because Mel stopped me ... and it wasn't easy. I'm not sure he could do it again."

"Let me show you something, Salt." The large flat screen on the wall activated and Guy found himself looking at a report. A brief perusal revealed that it was an analysis of the chemical components of his sperm. Shit! I so don't want to discuss this with Ed.

"As you can see," Ed began, clearly not the least bit embarrassed to be discussing something so intimate with him, "your sperm is completely harmless. It does not contain any of the chemicals that make vampire sperm so harmful. In fact it seems to be the opposite. Your sperm contains chemicals that should act as an analgesic to your partner."

"That is not going to repair his insides after I've shredded him," Guy said tersely. He felt nauseous.

"Also note that your sperm, particularly your precum, has lubrication qualities that far surpass those of any lube you can buy."

"You're not talking me into this, Ed."

His boss continued as if Guy hadn't said anything. "It also has some other chemicals that are most unusual. We haven't figured out what they do yet, but our analysts have assured me they are completely harmless."

"Great! We don't know what your sperm does. Try raping the kid and we'll see how it goes." Guy's sarcasm was heavy enough to clobber Ed on the head.

"If you heard Mel scream in pain or terror, you would stop. Your need to protect him is far too strong."

"I can't take the chance that I would hurt him."

"I think part of the problem is you've waited too long. The longer you go without claiming your mate, the worse it's going to get. You need to do something soon."

"No. I don't."

Guy heard the exasperation in Ed's voice when he said, "That's your choice, of course. I can't force you to do anything, but please at least think about what I said. The longer you wait, the harder it will be to control yourself."

"It's already too late, Ed. Besides, I'm sure after yesterday morning's debacle he won't want anything to do with me. I'm just going to stay away from him."

"Do you want us to move him to a different safe house?"

"No. I still think mine is the safest. I'll just stay in the carriage house with Consuela until this is over."

He could sense Ed's disapproval. "Sal, I don't think your feelings for Mel are going to go away—ever. Do you really want to live the rest of your life without him?"

"I'm not going to live that much longer anyway."

"Is that what this is about? Well, with an attitude like that, I'm sure you won't."

Guy heard the quiet click that meant Ed had turned off the speaker. He blew all the air out of his lungs in a long, slow breath. He can't possibly be right, can he?

"God, Jon, I'm going crazy! I'm so fucking bored!"

Jon must have heard the heartache in Tigger's voice because he responded with, "Something has happened, hasn't it? This isn't just about you being bored. Come on, spill."

Tigger took a deep breath. He had been so careful not to talk about anything that was happening for fear of giving his location away. As the weeks went by, however, and his unhappiness, boredom, and distress increased, it became harder and harder not to tell Jon what was going on—or rather what was not going on—between him and Guy.

The scariness of the vampire faded into the recesses of his memory to the point where he didn't seem like a real threat. Sometimes he even wondered if it had all been his imagination. He probably could have dismissed his first Encounter, scary as it was, because he'd been so drunk, but he still had a faint scar on his chest. And during the second Encounter, while stone-cold sober, he had seen the vampire flow up the side of his apartment building. He shuddered. No human could climb like that. However, there had been no sign of the demon in so many weeks that Tigger had just about convinced himself that Valjevo had moved on.

After his disastrous attempt at losing his virginity, he hadn't seen Guy even once, although immediately afterward he'd certainly heard him raging in his room, having some sort of temper tantrum. He had apparently moved out of his own house, sending Consuela to fetch things when he needed them.

Living in Guy's house without him was driving Tigger slowly insane. The boredom and inactivity added to his unhappiness; he had nothing to do during the long days except dwell on how perfect Guy had been at the beginning, and how much of an ass he turned out to be in the end. He was thinking more and more about leaving Guy's house. He needed to be out living his own life again so he could start forgetting about his trampled heart and the man who was responsible.

Now his resolve to be stoic broke, and the words came tumbling out. "Oh God, Jon! He doesn't want anything to do with me because I'm a virgin."

"What? Who?"

Tigger immediately flushed with shame. "Aargh! I never should have said anything. Never mind. I'm just bored."

"You don't have to tell me who. I think I can guess. But that's so cold! Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Tigger hissed. He wanted to follow this statement with, "He's moved out of his own house because he can't stand to be near me," but his good sense prevailed and he bit his tongue. Instead he said, "I need a change soon. I can't go on like this much longer."

"Sorry, Tig. Wish I was there to give you a hug."

A pang of loneliness shot through Tigger. "I wish you were too. God, I miss you. I miss my family. The investigation has stalled. Fall semester is going to start soon. There are so many reasons I don't want to be here."

"If you need anything from me, you just need to ask. You know I'd do anything for you, right?"

Tigger smiled through his gloom. "Thanks Jon. You're a great friend."

The worst part of this whole experience, Tigger thought, is that I fell in love with Guy. He could admit that to himself now because it was obviously over. If I hadn't fallen in love, it couldn't possibly hurt this much, could it?

Chapter Fifteen

The church smelled of old wood and incense. Guy shifted, and pain shot through his legs. How long have I been on my knees? He glanced at the window—the sun shone through the stained glass, casting a reddish glow on the pews, but it was impossible to tell the time.

With a quiet groan, Guy pulled himself up onto the wooden bench behind him. After spending hours praying, he felt more settled in his resolve to leave Mel alone. Ed was wrong; he couldn't trust himself. As painful as it was to stay away from his angel, it would be ten times worse if he were the cause of hurting him. It had to be so.

He heard a small noise and glanced up. The older priest he'd seen before was standing near the front of the small chapel, watching him. How long has he been there? he wondered. I'm really losing my edge.

Seeing that he had noticed him, the priest came toward him. When he got close enough, he said, "You are troubled, my son." He gave Guy a small, comforting smile.

Guy curled his lips in what he hoped was a return smile. "Yes." He couldn't very well lie to a priest, could he?

"Would you like to take confession?"

Remembering how empty he had felt after his last confession, Guy shook his head. He really didn't want to talk about the situation with Mel. "No, I don't think so."

"If you're sure," the priest said. He seemed disappointed. "We could just talk. I'm a good listener." The priests eyes slid down Guy's chest briefly before he focused back on his face again.

A small shiver went down Guy's spine. Once again he had the feeling that something was off here at the church. "No, I'm good."

"You don't look good," the priest pushed. "Come—sit and have a cup of tea with me."

"Tea?" Guy raised an eyebrow. It was ninety degrees outside.

"Iced tea," the priest clarified with a smile.

"All right," Guy replied. Something in his gut was telling him there was something wrong here, something he should investigate. With his senses on high alert, he followed the priest into a long narrow passageway. The hallway eventually opened into a small room, and the priest crossed to a corridor on the other side. The scent of incense was stronger in the chamber, and suddenly Guy caught a whiff of something else. Vampire!

He froze in his tracks, sniffing the air. Not fresh, but definitely vampire. What the hell was a vampire doing in a church? He suppressed the low growl that threatened to come out of the back of his throat. Turning slowly around, he tried to catch the direction of the scent. There was a set of stone steps leading down on one side of the room. The scent was not any stronger in that direction, but underground was the most likely place for a vampire. He strode immediately to the stairs and started down.

"My son, you can't go down there," the priest called to him, a note of panic in his voice.

He ignored the man, his entire focus on what might be before him. His muscles tensed, ready for action. His dart gun was in his boot holster under his jeans. He was wearing a tank top because of the heat, and there was no place else to hide it. It wouldn't do him much good if the vampire were to surprise him, but he could no longer detect the scent of vampire, so he didn't pull his gun out yet. The priest followed him down the stairs, his voice rising with ever louder admonitions.

The air grew cooler as he descended. The stairs ended in a hallway. The gothic architecture of the church was evident even in the stone basement. The building felt like something that been there for centuries, not something that had been built a mere hundred years earlier. It was just the kind of place a vampire would love, except for the worshiping God part.

The hallway was dimly lit with wrought iron sconces. They were electric but looked as if originally they had been gas. Guy paused at the bottom of the stairway to scent the air. A faint tinge of mildew and wet stone mingled with the incense from upstairs—there was no trace of vampire.

The priest was catching up with him, still scolding, "You can't come down here. You need to come back upstairs right away." His face was red and his eyes were a little wild.

He is hiding something. He's terrified of what I'll find down here. "What is down here?" he asked, trying to flush the man out.

"N ... nothing. Just storage is all." The priests beady eyes darted down the hallway.

Guy heard no sounds other than the beat of his own heart and the panting of the upset priest. He went to the first door in the hallway and put his ear next to the wood. Still nothing. Bending over, he pulled his dart gun out of his boot.

He heard the priest gasp and then rapid footsteps as the man hightailed it back up the stairs. Help will be coming soon, he thought. Just as well. He didn't want to enter a vampire's lair without backup. He could not smell the demon at all anymore, so he didn't think he was about to stumble upon him, but he wanted to confirm that there was a vampire on the premises. He needed to locate the scent and pinpoint his location. It was still daylight, so the demon should be at rest.

If Valjevo discovered his new lair had been compromised, he would likely relocate, and it would be months before they tracked him down again. Guy couldn't be sure that the vampire he'd smelled was Valjevo, but it was a good bet. This was his territory. Regardless, whatever vampire he found he would eliminate.

He grabbed the iron door handle, depressed the latch, and slid the door silently open a crack. He smelled only dust and mold, and the room was as silent as a tomb. He pushed the door wider. The light from the hallway spilled into the darkened interior revealing boxes stacked haphazardly against the walls, a few of them spilling their contents out onto the floor: old hymnals and stacks of pamphlets. There was nothing else there.

He eased out of the room and continued his silent search. There were six other doors off the hallway. Two of them led to storage similar to the first room. The other three were locked, but behind one of them he smelled the tail tell scent of rotting flesh.

He swallowed the bile that suddenly erupted in the back of his throat at the thought of finding another victim. He still didn't detect any sound or scent of the vampire.

Perhaps it just a delay tactic to put off the horror of discovering the victim, but he started with the rooms that were not tainted with the scent of death, reasoning that the vampire wouldn't sleep in the same room as the corpse. As perverse as vampires were, they also tended to be fastidious.

It took him a minute to find a proper implement to pick the ancient locks. He had nothing in his tools that would work and had to rummage through some of the storage rooms before he found an old light fixture from which he broke off a suitable piece of iron. Once he had the proper tool, he made short work of the locks. The first two locked rooms appeared to be almost identical unused bedrooms. They were each furnished with nothing more than a narrow cot pushed up against the wall, a small table holding an empty basin, a rickety chair, and a small threadbare rug. Each bed held a folded blanket at its foot.

Guy wondered who stayed in these rooms. Were they some kind of penance for priests who broke the rules? He stepped into each of the rooms, looking around curiously. The second room had been fairly recently occupied he realized as he caught the faint whiff of semen on the cot. Either the priests were using these rooms for occasional clandestine liaisons, or the poor souls who got locked in here were bored.

Conscious of the fact that the old priest had probably called the police, and no longer having an excuse to delay, Guy went determinedly to the last door and deftly picked the lock. Steeling himself against the abomination he knew was on the other side, he cracked the door and peeked into the dark room.

At first he saw nothing other than more boxes. He opened the door wider, letting the light from the hallway chase away the darkness. There was definitely something dead in the room, but it didn't smell quite like the usual victim and he didn't see it. The room was not that big—a victim should have been readily apparent. "C19: Night vision," he murmured, and the room was suddenly bright as day.

With his gun held at the ready, he stepped forward. His nose led him to the far corner were he spotted a partially decomposed rat on the floor. The relief that rushed through him left him trembling. Christ! Okay. Just a rat. So where the hell is the vampire?

Just then he heard the sound of many pairs of shoes running down stone steps. The cavalry had arrived. Setting the safety on his dart gun, he deactivated his night-vision and stepped to the door of the room so they could see him better. He held his arms out to his sides, the weapon dangling loosely from his left hand.

The city police had their guns out as they came rushing down the hallway. If I had a mind to kill them, I could have picked them all off by now, thought Guy. They seemed terribly slow and clumsy compared to the vampires he usually hunted.

"Halt! Hands up where we can see them!" the cop in front called, although clearly Guy was already doing just that. "Drop the weapon."

Guy's gun was a very precise and somewhat delicate mechanism. He didn't want to drop it six feet onto the stone floor. "I'm just going to set it down ... nice and slow," he assured the cops. Not taking his eyes from them, he slowly squatted and place the gun on the floor. Standing back up equally as slowly, he raised his arms above his head. He saw the young cop in the front swallow as his eyes widened. If he hadn't been worried that they would shoot him with little provocation, he would have snickered. The cop's expression was priceless. He was clearly completely cowed by the sight of Guy.

"Turn around. Up against the wall," one of the older cops said, stepping forward and keeping his gun trained on Guy.

Guy submitted passively to being handcuffed and searched, and to the seizure of the knife he had in his other boot. When he noted the young cop picking up his dart gun with gloved hands, he said, "Be careful with that. Don't let the chemical in that get on anything—it's very deadly."

"What the hell kind of gun is this?" the officer demanded, turning the odd-looking weapon over in his hands, his fingers ghosting over the safety mechanism. Several of the other officers crowded around, ogling the space-aged firearm.

"I said careful!" Guy barked sharply. "If you get yourself killed, I am not responsible."

The older officer who was currently looking through his wallet raised an eyebrow at him in surprise. "You're awfully cocky for someone who's on his way to the slammer," he said. Guy didn't carry any identification with him that indicated he worked for EERIE—it was a clandestine organization, after all.

It was just as well. As they led him none-to-gently to the stairs, he could see a number of priests clustered around the entrance at the top, chattering excitedly amongst each other. He didn't want to blow his cover; better that everyone thought he was just crazy than that they knew he was hunting demons. Now that he thought of it, crazy and demon-hunting went pretty much hand-in-hand.

The cops ushered him out of the building and into a waiting squad car. Judging from the sun, Guy estimated that there was about three hours of daylight left. So much for getting a nap in before this evening's work. It would be a busy night.

The ride to the station was blessedly short. On the way he had to endure a lecture on the stupidity of his choices, dispensed by the young cop from the scene who was riding shotgun. At the station, there was a considerable delay before they finally let him make a phone call. They tried to interrogate him first, but he turned himself into a brick wall, refusing to answer any questions without an attorney present. Finally they relented and let him make a call.