Foxx took a deep breath in and out and cleared his throat. “This is what grosses you out? We literally had sex while rolling around in body fluids.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t fucking dig my hands into someone! I just…” Harlow growled and cursed. “It’s different, okay! It feels like I’m still touching him, ugh…”
At the painedexpression on the dhampir’s face, Foxx got up off the ground. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” he asked with a frown.
“Yes,” Harlow ground out. The man was still holding his hands away from him.
Maybe it was less about the gore and more how it had gotten there? Walking over to him, he asked with a small smile, “Left pocket, right?”
The man’s shoulders sagged a little in relief, and he nodded. “Outer left zipper pocket.”
“You made them easy to find, I see,” Foxx mused as he unzipped the pocket and pulled out the only thing inside—asmall packet of wipes. Opening it, he plucked one out and held it up.
Harlow grabbed it and sighed in relief as he swiftly cleaned his hands, making sure to go around each finger thoroughly.
Dropping the dirty wipe in a nearby rubbish bin, the man grabbed a few more from the packet Foxx was still holding. Using another one to clean his hands again, the man attempted to use the other two to clean off his chest. When all three were a nasty mess, the man tossed them away, before taking the pack from him and slipping it back into his pocket.
“Feel better?” Foxx hummed. Wrapping his arms around the man, he looked up as he leaned against his chest.
“Yes…” Harlow grumbled, hugging him.
“Aww, my poor haphephobic old man!” Foxx giggled.
“What…?"
“Fear of touch, or in your case, touching.”
The man glared for a brief moment, before his brow pinched, followed by him shrugging. “It wouldn’t be completely wrong. Aversion instead fear, though, would be the right word. Disgust would fit even better. And it’s not everything…or every one… It’s…” Harlow frowned.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, there are rules to it. You are okay with touching, as long as it's someone you are killing, fighting, or fucking. Well, tonight we learned there are caveats to that. So next time, claws instead of squeezing.”
“How…do I bring out my claws?”
“Ah…right… I’ll…teach you how to do that later. Stick to your guns and blades for now.”
“Speaking of, why didn’t you keep shooting?”
Foxx winced. “I…ran out of bullets. These bastards just take so much to go down…”
“Fucking hell, Foxx. You should have said something the second you ran out.”
“I was a bit busy keeping him from biting me,” Foxx drawled. “Question…do they feel like they are getting stronger to you?”
The dhampir’s brow pinched again, his head tilting. The man stared blankly for a moment before finally saying, “Yes…”
“And they shouldn’t be…because they aren’t any older than the ones we’ve already faced.”
“How are they on the inside?”
“Worse… We’ve been here…what? Three hours? If it keeps progressing as it is…I’d be surprised if they survived past the next hour.”
“So they are closer to death, yet their strength is increasing the nearer they get.”
“It’s like they are in a rush to use up as much energy as they can before they extinguish.”
Foxx pulled back and unclipped his radio from the chest pocket of his dungarees. Clicking the button, he spoke into it. “This is team one. Six more dead.”
There was a click and then the voice of the Police Chief came on the line. “Return to the observation tent, team one. Two vampires are unaccounted for, but none are in sight of the cameras. The other team is currently engaged with the remaining vampires.”
