Paranormal Days Page 3

  Drying his hands slowly, Josh headed out of the restroom, not wanting to seem weird to the other man using the facilities. Quinn was waiting outside the bathroom, looking tense and conspicuous, and Josh stared at him for a moment.

  He was going crazy. He really, really was. Quinn's eyes were blue, a nice blue, but nowhere near the brilliant green Josh had imagined them to be. He needed to stop drinking so much he blacked out—but that still didn't explain the weird memories in the bathroom.

  "Are you okay?" Quinn asked, frowning at him. His tone sounded odd, but maybe Josh was still hallucinating.

  "Um, yes?" Josh said but shook his head. The deli was busier than it had been before he'd gone into the bathroom and the commotion was distracting him. "I'm not sure how I got here from there."

  Relief flickered across Quinn's face, so briefly Josh thought he must have imagined it. But what if he hadn't? What did that mean?

  "You look like you're going to throw up," Quinn said helpfully, his expression nothing but concerned now.

  "No, my stomach's fine," Josh muttered. "My head on the other hand—" Josh shook his head again, moving toward the exit as the noise in the little deli seemed to swell.

  What if he wasn't imagining things? What if he'd been bitten, been magically healed, and Quinn was some sort of… vampire who could change the color of his eyes and sway people into making fools of themselves in public bathrooms?

  What if he was crazy and hallucinating in the middle of the day? Which was worse?

  Josh stopped a few buildings away from the deli, about halfway back to the office building, and rounded on Quinn. Quinn stumbled back a few steps, his eyes flying wide in alarm. He nearly tripped, and Josh would have felt bad, but he was more concerned that he was going crazy.

  "Why don't I have your bite on my neck anymore? What the hell was that?" Josh demanded, keeping his voice down. He didn't want to advertise it if he was going insane.

  "What? I—you—" Quinn stammered out, looking horrified, and maybe Josh was raving, but he wasn't crazy because Quinn knew what he was talking about.

  "I don't make out with near-strangers in public restrooms! Especially when they're coworkers!" Josh hissed, glancing around furtively—they weren't far from work, after all, and the last thing he needed was gossip at work about him and Quinn.

  "I— That's what you're worried about?" Quinn asked, looking completely bewildered. Josh groaned because that was admittance as far as he was concerned, so the crazy parts were true, too.

  "You bit me," Josh accused. Quinn looked away guiltily, and his eyes widened again. Josh turned to see what had plastered the incredibly fake smile on Quinn's face only to find Steve strolling toward them, apparently taking as much pleasure in the nice day as Josh had on the way to the deli.

  "Hello, Josh," Steve greeted pleasantly. "Quinn. Did Josh get you all set up?"

  "Yes, sir," Quinn said, somehow managing to sound mostly normal, if subdued.

  "Good, good," Steve said with a smile. "Josh, there are a few projects I need you to take care of when you get back to your desk. Nothing important, but the server patch might be tricky, so leave that for last."

  "No problem," Josh said, briefly distracted from his fantastical "Quinn the real life fucking vampire" problem by the real problems of his job.

  "I should—" Quinn said, gesturing toward the office awkwardly. "I was late this morning; I need to make up the time."

  "Sure, sure," Steve said, waving Quinn off. "You run into any problems with your computer, give us a call."

  "Thanks," Quinn said, managing another fake smile before walking away. He didn't look at Josh, and Josh silently fumed. He'd find Quinn later—he knew where Quinn worked, after all.

  Steve started up again, detailing all the tasks he'd emailed Josh with. It would be simpler for Josh to check his email, but Steve liked to talk and Josh usually let him. Glancing down the street after Quinn, Josh resolved to corner him at the end of the day, when neither of them had the excuse of work cropping up.

  *~*~*

  "Hey, Elena," Josh said, sitting down heavily in the visitor's chair next to her desk. "I need a favor."

  "A favor? What kind of favor?" Elena asked suspiciously, her fingers stilling on her keyboard. She was dressed in a severe black pantsuit today, which meant she'd argued with Brad again, which meant she probably wasn't in a favor-granting mood.

  "I need an address," Josh said meekly, dropping his voice. "It's important?"

  "Whose address?" Elena asked, her suspicious look slipping into a far more dangerous expression: curiosity.

  "Quinn's," Josh admitted, half to see her reaction and half because it might goad her into giving him Quinn's address. There were three "Riverside" apartment complexes in the city, as he'd unfortunately found out when he'd googled it.

  Quinn was avoiding him, and Josh was more than willing to push the issue. Quinn had gone home "sick" on Monday, and today was the second consecutive day he'd called off. Josh was tired of being dodged, and he couldn't let it go. The whole thing was weird, and it was probably safer to forget it and move on with his life, but Josh wasn't smart and he hated being ignored.

  Probably all the drinking had killed his smart brain cells.

  "Quinn?" Elena smiled wickedly. "Going to play doctor?"

  "Something like that. He had lunch with me, and then he got sick. I wanted to bring him a care package," Josh lied easily.

  "Delivering in person?" Elena asked, turning back to her computer. She fussed around for a moment, opening up a document. Josh didn't look at it; technically employee addresses were confidential, after all. Elena would be in big trouble if it was found out she'd given out an address. Josh didn't think Quinn would complain, though, not with the leverage of what Josh knew about him.

  "Maybe," Josh said teasingly as Elena scrawled something on a bright yellow sticky note. She handed it off to him, smirking, and Josh was glad that he'd managed to brighten her day. "Thanks."

  "Anyone asks, you didn't get that from me," Elena said. "You owe me. We'll discuss terms later."

  "Yes, ma'am," Josh said, glancing down at the address. Lovely—it was for the most upscale of the three complexes. That begged the question of why Quinn wore such ugly plaid shirts if he lived in such a ritzy area. Josh added it to the list of things he wanted to ask Quinn.

  "So lunch went that well?" Elena asked. Josh resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Elena and the other girls had been trying to set him up for months to no avail. Everyone they found had been weird—like George; Carrie hadn't been allowed to pick after him—or boring. They'd all been hot, at least, and Josh had been happy with the sex.

  He wasn't sure who he could blame Quinn on. Probably no one but himself since he'd taken Quinn home before Elena's Monday shenanigans.

  "I'm not sure. He got sick," Josh said, grinning cheerfully when Elena made a face at that. Before she could pester him further, however, his cell phone buzzed. Flipping it open, he read the short message.

  "Boss calls. Talk to you tomorrow, Elena," Josh said, standing up and sliding the phone back into his pocket.

  "You better have something interesting to report," Elena said, swiveling her chair to face her computer again. Josh left, heading upstairs. With luck, the last two hours of work would pass quickly so he could go confront Quinn.

  It wasn't the smartest course of action. What if Quinn decided to kill him to keep his secret safe? But if Quinn wanted to do that, why hadn't he done it yet? Why was he simply avoiding Josh instead?

  Unfortunately for Josh, the last hours of his work day passed as slow as pouring molasses. Work was slow—no one set their computer on fire, literally or figuratively—so he had a lot of idle time to fritter away. When the clock finally ticked over to five, Josh grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door with Elena's sticky note tucked into his front pocket.

  The drive to Quinn's apartment was almost worse than waiting at work. Traffic was terrible, and Josh turned down the wrong street twice before fina
lly finding the sprawling townhouses of the Riverside apartment complex. Built less than ten years ago, they were gorgeous and sprawling and on the right part of the river for clean(ish) water and a wonderful view. Quinn's unit—6B—was halfway down the row of identical blue houses. Josh parked in the space with a sign that said "Guest Parking," shut off his car, and reconsidered whether he was being stupid to demand answers from a vampire.

  Quinn hadn't ever seemed threatening or scary. It had been hot when he'd gotten all pushy in the deli's restroom but not scary. And Josh couldn't stop remembering the look on Quinn's face when Josh had confronted him, like he'd been sucker-punched or had his lunch money stolen by the school bullies.

  Sighing, Josh opened the car door and slid out, pocketing his keys as he observed the building in front of him. It was a pale blue with white trim. The lights and mailboxes and signs all had ridiculous scrolling bits attached. Worst was the bush next to the front walk, sculpted into the unit's number, 6. It looked incredibly stupid.

  Walking up the sidewalk slowly, Josh studied the door to unit 6B as he approached it. It was next to the door to 6A, but on the outside edge of the building. Quinn's apartment was probably upstairs, which would add an obstacle if Josh needed to make a break for it.

  Josh shook his head at himself. Quinn was very probably harmless. He'd chosen to call out sick two days in a row instead of dealing with Josh about it. Josh hesitated on the doorstep, but then made himself hit the doorbell. He could hear the chimes through the door, a high-pitched ding-ding that was probably more obnoxious on the other side of the door.

  He waited impatiently, fidgeting. What if he'd psyched himself up and Quinn wasn't home? Glancing back at the parking lot, Josh frowned. He didn't know what Quinn drove, but it didn't matter. He could hear footsteps taking the stairs at an unhealthily fast pace. Quinn was home.

  Then the door opened and Quinn was standing right there, and Josh couldn't think of a single thing to say. Quinn was wearing another ugly plaid shirt in a combination of blue and green that should never have been put together and a pair of old, loose jeans that had no shape and were probably soft as butter by the look of them. He was also looking at Josh as if he had just arrived from Jupiter.

  "You don't look sick," Josh said, and Quinn shook himself visibly.

  "I'm not," Quinn said. He looked worried and miserable. Josh sighed. It was stupid, but he wanted to reassure Quinn instead of demanding answers from him.

  "That's good," Josh said, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. "Then you can answer a few questions for me."

  "I—" Quinn started, his eyebrows knitting together in consternation. Josh raised his eyebrows, prepared to force the issue if need be. "You should come in."

  "Okay," Josh said, though part of him would rather stay on the porch, out in public, where Quinn would at least hesitate before trying to eat him. Quinn stepped back, holding the door open for him. Josh entered the house slowly, trying to ignore the ominous sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

  "Ignore the boxes. I'm still working on unpacking," Quinn said, sounding mostly normal. He slipped around Josh to lead the way up the thickly carpeted stairs, and Josh followed, marveling that he could actually feel the cushion of the carpet despite still wearing his work shoes.

  The upstairs was a mess. It was a nice unit, with a wide-open floor plan and plenty of space. There wasn't much in the way of furniture, and there were boxes everywhere—on the floor, the mantle of the fireplace, stacked on chairs. The only place that was free of boxes was the couch, and it looked only recently vacated. There was a steaming mug set on the box next to it and a knitted afghan throw crumpled in the corner.

  "Have a seat?" Quinn suggested, gesturing to the couch. He made a half-hearted effort to move a box out of the way but almost immediately abandoned the effort. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  "I'm fine, thanks," Josh said politely, feeling no small part surreal as he picked his way over to the couch and sat down.

  "Um," Quinn said but didn't say anything more. He made no move to join Josh on the couch, just stood there in the center of his sea of boxes, looking lost.

  "So, uh, you're a vampire?" Josh asked, wincing at how awkward that sounded. He needed to work on his opening lines.

  Quinn winced too, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt for a moment. What did Quinn think he was going to do, attack him for it? Maybe, Josh thought reluctantly. Quinn was keeping his distance, staying almost halfway across the room, and he'd avoided Josh for two days—obviously he was afraid of something.

  "Does anyone else know?" Josh asked, not sure what to do to put Quinn more at ease. At least he was sure Quinn wasn't going to hurt him. Quinn would barely look at him.

  "Not here," Quinn said. "Not—not unless you've told anyone."

  "Yeah, that would go over well," Josh said, snorting. He relaxed, slumping more comfortably against the back of the couch. "I'd probably get myself speedily committed to the psych ward if I tried to tell anyone my hot new coworker drank my blood in the public restroom of a deli."

  "I didn't," Quinn said immediately, not looking any less anxious when he finally looked up. "I mean, not then. I just—I needed to heal it."

  "Yeah, why didn't you do that before?" Josh asked, touching his neck gingerly where the bite had been. "If you'd done it Friday, I would never have noticed anything was wrong."

  "I don't—I didn't realize I hadn't," Quinn mumbled, and if Josh's hazy memories of Friday were anything to go by, Quinn had been at least as intoxicated as he'd been.

  "So what messed up Monday? I wasn't supposed to remember, was I? What did you do anyway? 'Cause I don't normally maul guys in public restrooms," Josh rambled, wishing he could figure out how to get Quinn to relax and still get answers. "I'm not going to tell, by the way. Even if I had someone who'd believe me, it's not right to spill your secret, right?"

  "I guess," Quinn muttered. "And no, you weren't supposed to remember it. I don't—I'm not sure what went wrong, but I must have screwed something up the first time."

  "The first time? Is that why Friday is such a blur? I thought that was the alcohol," Josh said. The attempt at levity fell flat; Quinn shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

  "The normal procedure for feeding is to lure the person somewhere remote, bite, heal the bite, and then make them forget," Quinn recited, as if by rote. He sighed, running his hands through his hair and messing it up spectacularly. "I'm horrible at it. I'm sorry."

  "Can I ask more questions?" Josh asked. He was incredibly curious, but he didn't want to push given how upset Quinn was about it.

  "Yeah—yes," Quinn said, frowning at him in puzzlement. "I bit you."

  "I'm aware," Josh said. "And?"

  "I don't understand," Quinn said. "Why aren't you upset?"

  "I probably should be," Josh admitted. He shrugged, trying to appear casual. "But you don't seem like you're about to bite me again or kill me for knowing, so I'm curious. I didn't think vampires were real until I met you."

  "I'm not going to kill you or bite you again," Quinn said, shifting in place nervously. "You just want answers?"

  "And your first born," Josh said deadpan, pleased when Quinn cracked a reluctant smile. "Well, if vampires can have kids, that is."

  "They can. My mother is," Quinn offered hesitantly. "That's why I am."

  "It's hereditary? Can it be spread through bites?" Josh asked, then for good measure added, "And how come you don't die in sunlight?"

  "If you're bitten wrong or enough times," Quinn said, and he was back to fidgeting with his shirt sleeves again. "It's like… there's a venom to it. If I don't moderate it properly, you get too much and that's biting wrong."

  "And if you bite too often, I get too much anyway," Josh completed the thought himself. "So… sunlight?"

  "Myth," Quinn said, shrugging. "Probably from when it was easier to get—to feed—at night."

  "Garlic?" Josh asked cheerfully, wondering if he should invest in e
xtra garlic salt.

  "Allergy, really," Quinn said, but he was an obvious, terrible liar, and Josh raised his eyebrows. "It's… drugging," Quinn said stiltedly, his cheeks turning red. "Like too much alcohol, except it makes me want to bite."

  "So Friday, did you have garlic? Or was that too many beers, like me?" Josh asked, wondering what the chances of getting Quinn to actually sit down were. He looked so stiff and uncomfortable, standing halfway across the room. Unfortunately, the chances were probably slim.

  "It was in the bar's party mix. I thought it was just pretzels," Quinn muttered. He frowned at Josh, but then crossed the room slowly. He sat on the other side of the couch where his no-longer-steaming mug sat.

  "How much blood do you need? Do you have to, uh, eat every day?" Josh asked, then smiled impishly. "Tell me you sparkle, that would be awesome."

  Quinn laughed, finally giving him a real smile. Josh grinned back, pleased he'd managed to get Quinn to relax that much. "I only sparkle if someone douses me in glitter, sorry," Quinn said, sipping at his drink. It was in a coffee mug, so probably coffee.

  "My dreams are crushed," Josh said, making Quinn smile again. He did have a nice smile—and no real fangs, which was odd.

  "I don't need much blood, actually," Quinn said, turning shy again. "Usually a few mouthfuls every couple days is good enough. My brother needs more. He's full-blooded; I'm only half."

  "Different parents, or does it show up in different strengths?" Josh asked, shifting so he could face Quinn more.

  "Different parents," Quinn said. "His father wasn't human, but mine was. I had half a chance of being born fully human, but I wasn't."

  "Can you drink from other vampires?" Josh asked, wondering how Quinn managed to get blood every few days. Probably by using his green-eyed tricks.

  "No," Quinn said. "I mean, you can, but it doesn't do anything. It's missing the protein, enzyme, whatever it is that we get from it."

  "So what do you do when you're little, lure kids off the playground and into the woods?" Josh asked, envisioning a young Quinn luring some hapless idiot into the playground woods for snack time.