“Brat.”
“Old man.”
Harlow sat therein a plush gray chair, glaring at the ceiling as he listened to the pipes and the other random creeks of the apartment. Foxx had left him there ten minutes ago, and while his headache was finally gone, now that he was inside thesoundproofed apartment, he much rather still be in the car, headache and all.
He stiffened at the sound of the apartment door unlocking. The footsteps he’d heard told him that it wasn’t Foxx—the stride was too long. Not that the vampire would be back this quickly. Doc was thirty minutes out.
Remaining in his seat, Harlow stared at the entrance to the hallway, unsurprised when Alastair appeared. Foxx had mentioned last week about wanting to change the locks, but they hadn’t stayed at home long enough for him to manage it. Eyeing the gray eyed man, with his asymmetrical curly dark brown hair, blue turtleneck and corduroy pants, he...sighed.
“Foxx isn’t here.”
“I’m not here to see him.”
Oh…great…he thought. This couldonlygo well.
Standing there in silence, the vampire began to eye himtooclosely. Mere moments later, the man’s heart skipped before racing on ahead, his scent souring with fear as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Alastair took a hesitant step back.
“I have to say, Alastair, you don’t have much of a poker face,” Harlow mused.
“You…” the vampire rasped, his eyes starting to fill with tears as they narrowed in anger. “You’ll get him killed!” the man hissed.
“I’d die first.”
“Then DIE!” Alastair roared as he lunged towards him.
The driveto Doc Robinson’s was uneventful. The vampire lived in the middle of a forest, thirty minutes south of Houndside Hazard, on the outskirts of Hollow Moor. As far as Foxx knew, Doc’s nearest neighbor was miles away.
Slipping the infected blood into the belly pocket of his sunsuit, he eyed the large two floor house. The gravel drive that weaved through the forest towards the house opened up to a sizable circular drive, finishing at the back of the house.
Flat, irregularly shaped stones made a path, through the almost wild-looking grass, up to the backdoor of the structure. Siding made up of dark brown bricks in various shades, the roof was gray, and the window trims white. On either side of the back door, there were yellow rose bushes. Various other greenery and vine-like plants continued around the house. Size aside, from the outside there was no indication it was a clinic.
As it was still daylight, it would be hours before it officially opened. Yet, when he listened in, Foxx heard two heartbeats. One seemed to be in the front of the doctor’s office, while the other, if he were to guess, was outside it. Both people were moving and awake. Both were vampires.
Foxx hesitated a moment before taking a deep breath, and walking past the back door, which he knew led into the clinic. Going around to the front, he knocked on the door there—the entrance, he assumed, led to Doc’s living quarters. It could…only be Doc inside, right?
He didn’t have to wait long. The door opened only a few seconds later. But then again, Foxx hadn’t expected to wait long. He had heard the other vampire start moving towards the door when Foxx had.
Standing just out of range of the sun’s rays, Doc stood in the doorway of his house in a pair of dark blue jeans, a green jumper, and black slippers. His long auburn hair was in a thick braid hanging over his shoulder, and Doc’s pert freckled nose wrinkledslightly as the man’s lips pursed while he eyed him. The vampire looked pretty awake, considering it was daylight outside.
Standing at least five inches taller than him, Doc’s frame was muscular, but more on the slim, athletic side. It was likely nowhere near where it used to be when the man had been a highlander laird.
Head tilting slightly, a small smile slipped onto Doc’s face. The smile almost hid the irritation Foxx had seen in the man’s eyes on opening the door—almost.
“Should I have been expecting you, Foxx?” the vampire asked, his Scottish accent noticeable but barely. Give him time, and Foxx was sure he’d get the man speaking as if he had never left Scotland.
The man’s gaze swept over him. “You don’t look injured. And this is certainly not the entrance to my clinic…” The admonishment was clear, but Foxx was going to just ignore it, because he didn’t care.
“I have something I need to show you,” Foxx said vaguely.
“I suppose it would be rude of me to turn you away, uninvited or not.” A small, and apparently sarcastic, smile still in place, the man backed up and waved him in. “Come in, come in.”
He shrugged. “If you had been in your clinic, I would have gone there.”
Doc let out a laugh of disbelief. “Oh? So sorry that me relaxing before opening my services has caused some inconvenience to you.”
Foxx smiled on noting that the man’s accent had gotten just a little bit thicker. “As long as you know.”
Foxx eyed the place as he followed the man deeper into the house; the floors were wooden, while the walls were either a beautiful red wood, painted dark green, or brick. The man seemed to lean towards decorating his house in cool tones of gray-green, brown, and white.
