“Eyes bothering you too?” he asked, hands twisting.
The man’s voice, notably softer than normal, slowly said, “Yes… Everything seems too bright and sharp. So sharp…that I’m going to assume I probably should have had glasses before this.”
Foxx snorted, grimacing when the man winced at the noise. “Sorry… I know it’s bad right now. This visual and auditory sensitivity is something newly turned vampires deal with, but our changes seem to be more gradual compared to yours. Usually it happens a few weeks after the turn. I’m guessing for dhampirs, due to what your food source is, your senses heighten immediately on turning.”
“How long…will this last? Or is it always going to be like this?”
“It won’t. This hyper-sensitivity you are feeling will likely last a few weeks. At that point, it will start to tone down as your body adjusts and your brain learns to pull back. The default you end up at will be more automatic than anything. And even then, most of the time, a paranormals default is usually only slightly better than human, with us only seeing and hearing more when we choose to actively engage our enhanced senses.”
“Can you turn the lights down?” Harlow asked.
Foxx quickly moved to the panel on the wall and dimmed the lights. He usually preferred them this way anyway, but hadgotten in the habit of keeping them brighter to accommodate Harlow. Foxx guessed he wouldn’t have to do that anymore.
“Thank you…” Harlow swallowed. Eyes slowly opening, the dhampir stared at him. “Sit.”
“I don’t think I can.” He huffed, and…started to pace, hands folding behind his back. “It feels like there is too much to do, yet there is nothing that I can actually do about any of this right now.”
“Which is why you should sit and relax.”
“How? How can I relax, Harlow?” He just barely stopped himself from shouting. “You literally have a death sentence hanging over your head, and will until—or hell,if—Tony agrees to help us.”
“None of which is worth freaking out over until after we talk to Tony. He should be here soon enough.” Harlow sighed. “What is the plan after talking to him? I can’t just hide out here…or am I going to have to?”
“You…” He trailed off at the sound of a knock.
Takinga deep breath in and out, Tony slowly knocked. Mere seconds later, the door opened. Foxx was standing there looking up at him, eyes slightly wide and…nervous. The vampire looked verynervous…and pale…
“What’s going on, Foxx?”
“Not out here.”
He sputtered in protest when the vampire grabbed his arm and yanked him inside.Not suspicious at all,he thought as Foxxlocked the door right away, bolting it, and even adding the chain lock.
“Follow me,” Foxx said softly, while pushing past him.
Tony shook his head and followed. Eyeing the large open space as he stepped out of the hallway, his shoulders sagged on spotting Harlow sitting on one of the many couches. Foxx had said he was alive, but…until Tony saw for himself…part of him didn’t believe it.
Harlow looked…pretty okay for a man who’d recently been kidnapped. Though…he was squinting a little, his face slightly pinched as if he had a headache. It was odd seeing him in a T-shirt with zero visible weapons. Yet, that wasn’t all that was off... There was this stillness to him… Inhuman stillness… The same stillness Foxx had as he stopped to stand near the man.
“Fucking hell, so they turned you,” Tony groaned.
Harlow snorted, oddly wincing before saying, “Yep, no longer human, but still breathing.”
“Do you get off on stressing me out, or is it just a hobby, you bastard?”
“I get that you two have this weird ‘we’re friends, but not’ type of thing going on, and probably want to joke and bullshit now that this death-defying situation seems to be over, but it’s NOT over,” Foxx hissed. “Now, sit!”
Tony opened his mouth and soon closed it on seeing not only the warning glare on Foxx’s face, but Harlow shaking his head at him to not. He hesitated a moment, then walked over and took the plush chair adjacent to Harlow as he cleared his throat. “So…what’s…going on?”
Tony’s jaw dropped at what came out of Foxx’s mouth next. His brain began to run round and round, as things about Harlow…started to line up and make more sense.
Gaze flicking back and forth between Harlow and Foxx, he swallowed and asked,“Are you sure?”
Foxx tugged his turtle neck down, revealing a bite mark. Frowning, Tony leaned forward, his eyes widening when he saw the perfect imprint of teeth…the deepest parts showing four punctured marks—four fangs.
“Well, fuck me, a dhampir. I had heard… I mean, I knew they were real. But I never thought I’d ever see one in person.”
Frankly, he never thought he’d run into one who’d have a shot at living long. Tony always assumed, if he did ever run into one…it would be because they needed to be put down. The older dhampirs…at least the ones who lived long enough to find some sort of equilibrium, weren’t exactly hanging around hunters. They weren't really that open about their existence…for good reason.
