Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

means.”
    Part of him felt the exhilaration of potential discovery. The photograph was too hazy and taken from too far away to get a good look at the wound. But if it were what he thought it might be....
    Simon set down the paper and tried to clear his mind, but it whirled with the possibilities. Years of research, a lifetime of endeavor, and the evidence to justify it all could be within his grasp. “Imagine if this is tangible proof of the occult. What I’ve been, what we’ve been searching for.”
    “I’d feel a whole lot better if I weren’t stuck in the middle of it,” she said.
    In his enthusiasm, he’d nearly forgotten the circumstances. “I’m sorry. I’ve just waited so long for something like this.”
    “I could have waited a little longer.”
    “Yes,” Simon said. “But still, it is a possibility.” As much as he hoped it was true, a part of him was disgusted by the prospect, to wish something so vulgar into existence was shameful. He glanced at Elizabeth and could feel her nervous energy coming off in waves.
    She pulled her hand away from his. “And the tiny little fact that this man was murdered and strung up like an animal is what? Extraneous?”
    The rebuke was well aimed and stung. “Of course not.”
    “You’ll forgive me if I’m not overjoyed at the prospect of finding a vampire when I’m trapped in the middle of this whole depraved mess.”
    She was right. This wasn’t an academic exercise, this was frighteningly real. He made a conscious effort to squelch his research instincts. Was he really such a man who could see death and find only what helped his cause? “It’s probably nothing of the kind.”
    He needed to touch her again and reached for her hand. Thankfully, she didn’t pull away.
    “I know this means a lot to you, Simon. Under any other circumstances I’d be right there with you. But reading about vampires in books is one thing, this...”
    “Is something else entirely,” he said and squeezed her hand before rising to move around the room. As much as he tried to deny it, the possibility was there. A chance to find the proof he’d spent a lifetime searching for.
    Elizabeth pulled her knees up to her chest and watched him pace for a few moments. “Why do you believe it? I mean, all of it.”
    He leaned against the far wall and paused for a moment before he answered. “Because the man I most admired believed it, and was ridiculed for it,” he said simply. “If I can prove he was right, find some empirical evidence...”
    “You’ll clear his name?”
    “Yes.” It was a simple motive really, one he realized she couldn’t possibly share. “What about you? Why the occult? Why not General Anthropology? History?”
    She gave him an embarrassed smile. “It sounds silly.”
    He nodded in encouragement and walked over to the bed.
    She took a breath and shrugged. “I guess part of me can’t believe human beings are really capable of atrocities like this,” she said and nodded toward the paper. “And I hoped, maybe, there was another explanation. That people weren’t doing those awful things. That evil wasn’t just an idea, but a real, tangible thing. And if it had form, if you could find it, you could stop it. That’s me, saving the world from evil.” She shrugged again. “Told you it was silly.”
    “Not at all. I think it’s...” he said and smiled gently as he sat down, “wonderfully you.”
    “Naïve and all catty whompus?”
    “No,” he said and held out his hand for her to join him. She took it and sat on the bed. “You see the best in people. Don’t ever be ashamed of that. Even though I might act differently on occasion, it’s one of the things, the many things, I love about you. You saw the best in me when I didn’t deserve it, and for that,” he said, as he kissed her hand, “I’ll be forever grateful.”
    “You know, for a stuffy Englishman, you’re pretty damn eloquent.”
    “Am I?”
    She ran her fingers along his neck, tickling a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear. “Makes me all puddley.”
    He leaned into her touch and felt her lips follow the same path as her fingers. “That’s good?”
    “Oh,” she breathed softly. “Very good.”
    Her mouth was doing something marvelous to his neck, barely nibbling on the skin, when she suddenly pulled back.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    She stared at his neck, her eyes clouding with worry. “Do you really think it was a vampire that killed that man?”
    He