known to heal the sick and aged. Cure disease. Mend the injured. You wouldn’t be the first man I’ve examined after visiting the spring. I actually published a case study last century on the actual miracles of the shrine.”
Darryl couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t imagine a better scenario. Who knew?
“And so, you tried our water despite your skepticism, and now you want validation of your miracle. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
He nodded. His heart felt another squeeze. He ignored it again.
“Very good. I’ll leave you for a bit while you change into our too-small gown, and when I return, we’ll begin.”
Shit . He’d forgotten the gaping-back examination gowns. Darryl eyed the two of them hanging forlornly from hooks on the back wall. He should’ve known. Either of them looked like he’d shortly be running about in a backless mini-dress that left zero to the imagination. He hoped Nurse Fiskar had a stout heart.
The jacket went on the exam bed. He hung his holster from a peg, his belt beside it. He used the jacket to cover them over. He’d donned a mini cable-knit, off-white pullover this morning. That went on another peg. His undershirt followed, all of it making a nice wad of clothing that disguised his weaponry. He hoped. He’d just unbuttoned and unzipped his fly when the door behind him opened.
Darryl spun, nothing pained with the move, and then liquid acid got tossed on him. Every drop instantly pained. Sizzled. And then muted into nothing more than water that he brushed off. Thank goodness he hadn’t taken his glasses off. He glared through the water-specked lenses at the nurse who stood there, a specimen glass in her hand.
“What the hell?”
The words were rumbled. His mind answered. That was no nurse. Felicia Trent stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her saucy little ass, covered in a dress that probably came from an adult catalog advertising Halloween nurse costumes for strippers.
“Hi, Big Gun. Wow. Look at you. I had no idea. I mean… wow .”
Not good.
A moment later she was in front of him, her hand grazing the slight line of hair on his belly downward, and almost reaching his—
Darryl grabbed her hand and yanked it off him, lifting her from the floor with the move. He had to consciously command his arm muscles to release her back to the floor.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving you. I’m just glad I’m in time.”
“In time for what?”
“That was Holy Water. I was told—”
The door got kicked open, interrupting her. The owner of the heavy boots walked in, followed by six more men, packing the room. All strangely armed. All dressed in winter camouflage. Darryl had Felicia behind him against the back wall and his Beretta palmed and aimed at the first asshole. His move took two seconds. He watched the guy gulp. It was visible.
“Somebody better start talking,” he said. “You got three seconds.”
“Well. I think that answers our question,” the first guy said.
“What question?”
“She didn’t turn you yet…although it looks like she did a damn fine job with the partial job. And please. We’re harmless. You don’t have to shoot us.”
“One,” Darryl replied.
“Oh, stop. I’ll explain. Name’s Chester Beethan. I guess I’m Lord Beethan now, through the recent demise of my grandfather, the last title holder…although his death can’t be proven yet. There’s an issue with missing bodies, 4-D Teams being what they are. Have to wait for DNA results.”
“Two,” Darryl said.
“Very well. I’ll explain faster. I’m a Hunter. A vampire hunter. As are all the gentlemen around me. Please don’t shoot. We’re human.”
The fist about his heart went into over-drive, making it feel like barbed wire wrapped that particular muscle. Darryl wavered, and then lowered the gun barrel.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I want him found – and I want it done now!”
“Wow. Reika. This is so…rad. I’ve
Darryl couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t imagine a better scenario. Who knew?
“And so, you tried our water despite your skepticism, and now you want validation of your miracle. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
He nodded. His heart felt another squeeze. He ignored it again.
“Very good. I’ll leave you for a bit while you change into our too-small gown, and when I return, we’ll begin.”
Shit . He’d forgotten the gaping-back examination gowns. Darryl eyed the two of them hanging forlornly from hooks on the back wall. He should’ve known. Either of them looked like he’d shortly be running about in a backless mini-dress that left zero to the imagination. He hoped Nurse Fiskar had a stout heart.
The jacket went on the exam bed. He hung his holster from a peg, his belt beside it. He used the jacket to cover them over. He’d donned a mini cable-knit, off-white pullover this morning. That went on another peg. His undershirt followed, all of it making a nice wad of clothing that disguised his weaponry. He hoped. He’d just unbuttoned and unzipped his fly when the door behind him opened.
Darryl spun, nothing pained with the move, and then liquid acid got tossed on him. Every drop instantly pained. Sizzled. And then muted into nothing more than water that he brushed off. Thank goodness he hadn’t taken his glasses off. He glared through the water-specked lenses at the nurse who stood there, a specimen glass in her hand.
“What the hell?”
The words were rumbled. His mind answered. That was no nurse. Felicia Trent stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her saucy little ass, covered in a dress that probably came from an adult catalog advertising Halloween nurse costumes for strippers.
“Hi, Big Gun. Wow. Look at you. I had no idea. I mean… wow .”
Not good.
A moment later she was in front of him, her hand grazing the slight line of hair on his belly downward, and almost reaching his—
Darryl grabbed her hand and yanked it off him, lifting her from the floor with the move. He had to consciously command his arm muscles to release her back to the floor.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving you. I’m just glad I’m in time.”
“In time for what?”
“That was Holy Water. I was told—”
The door got kicked open, interrupting her. The owner of the heavy boots walked in, followed by six more men, packing the room. All strangely armed. All dressed in winter camouflage. Darryl had Felicia behind him against the back wall and his Beretta palmed and aimed at the first asshole. His move took two seconds. He watched the guy gulp. It was visible.
“Somebody better start talking,” he said. “You got three seconds.”
“Well. I think that answers our question,” the first guy said.
“What question?”
“She didn’t turn you yet…although it looks like she did a damn fine job with the partial job. And please. We’re harmless. You don’t have to shoot us.”
“One,” Darryl replied.
“Oh, stop. I’ll explain. Name’s Chester Beethan. I guess I’m Lord Beethan now, through the recent demise of my grandfather, the last title holder…although his death can’t be proven yet. There’s an issue with missing bodies, 4-D Teams being what they are. Have to wait for DNA results.”
“Two,” Darryl said.
“Very well. I’ll explain faster. I’m a Hunter. A vampire hunter. As are all the gentlemen around me. Please don’t shoot. We’re human.”
The fist about his heart went into over-drive, making it feel like barbed wire wrapped that particular muscle. Darryl wavered, and then lowered the gun barrel.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I want him found – and I want it done now!”
“Wow. Reika. This is so…rad. I’ve
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