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It took many hours to recover.

The silver had to work its way through my various systems. My lungs got the worst of it, my skin next. I’d faced liquid silver in the past, back when I had been used as a pawn in a man’s quest for revenge against the vampire he believed killed his wife. Back then, the mist had debilitated me enough that the man was able to withdraw a vial of my blood from me, drink it, and go on to face the vampire with his newly acquired strength and speed. As it turns out, willingly partaking of vampire blood temporarily gives one the strength of a vampire. FYI, this is different than suffering a vampire bite, then being force-fed the blood, which is what turns a human into a vamp.

Anyway, thanks to that experience, I knew what fresh hell I was in for and so, I gritted my teeth and dealt with it. Not to mention I have a ghost of a memory of having been burned alive in the center of the sun. If that memory was even remotely true, then dealing with a little silver in my system isn’t nearly as bad.

Allie was a peach, offering me her energy, which I readily drew from. Being overwhelmed with the silver forced me to reach outside myself for help. Had it been a normal physical injury, my body would heal itself posthaste. So, yeah, I needed some help through the first few dark hours where I found myself writhing and moaning and reminding myself that I had endured far worse, though in those moments, I couldn’t imagine feeling any worse than I did. Buckets of sweat later, I awoke in the middle of the night to find Allie shivering on the couch under a thin blanket with the TV on. Apparently, we had been watching something called Virgin River and were already in the third season. I didn’t recall watching a single episode. Pretty sure Allie didn’t either. Looks like I drained the hell out of her. I swiped on my phone and promptly ordered some Big Macs via Uber eats. Shakes, too. Allie, a fitness freak, wouldn’t be too happy with the order, but she would scarf it right along with me.

By the time our food arrived, I had her head in my lap, having spent the last hour or so running my fingers through her hair, letting her know how much she meant to me. Despite pushing her away for years, I’d finally come to terms that I had a best friend for life. Not sure why I resisted, but I had.

I only wanted to be needed by my kids and by my man. Allie, in those early years, had been particularly needy. Maybe I hadn’t had the bandwidth to take on her needs; that is, until she often showed me that she didn’t need my help, that she was a fully capable and functioning adult female with a particularly deadly skill set of witchy proportions. Truth was, she didn’t need my help for anything. She could take care of herself. She just enjoyed my company, go figure. Once that realization set in, I relaxed a little around her. I quit seeing her as needy and saw her as the sweet woman she was. Once I saw that, I began embracing our friendship.

Yeah, it took a while. I don’t let people in easily. But Allison? She’s a power witch—and that definitely didn’t hurt. Not that I ever used her or anything, but her mad skills have come in handy more than once. We’ve been through a lot together. Some wild stuff, actually. The kind of adventures that either bring people closer… or tear them apart. Luckily for us, it was the former.

Not sure how much time has passed since first teleporting out of the ‘workroom of suffering.’ Pretty sure a single night has passed. Of course, the first thing I had done upon awakening in the morning was to answer my kids’ increasingly desperate text messages. Luckily, Allison had called them to confirm I was safe and sound. She also ate her Big Mac and drank half the milkshake, of which she was nice enough to leave the remaining half in the refrigerator. Yes, I promptly finished it.

Allison is gone—apparently at work for her morning show, having been promoted from the dreaded midnight time slot. Considering she’s a real psychic, I’m not very surprised her show is a hit. Hard to argue with her accuracy, and she’s a natural chatterbox when you get her going.

I check the time on my phone. It’s just past 9 a.m. Hmm, she should be home soon. I text her, and she confirms she’s on her way home. I decide to hang around and wait.

I see she covered me in a blanket. I also see that I sweated through said blanket—and also through my own clothes. I next teleport into my bedroom, fetch some clean clothing and teleport back. Before I do anything else, I take a hot shower and shampoo the silver crap out of my hair. I scrub my face and arms with body wash—anything that had been exposed to the silver mist. I’m pretty sure Allie had wiped my face and arms last night. I probably should have jumped in the shower then, but I had been too worn out.

I’m back at her place and just pulling on a different pair of sneakers when Allie comes through her front door in a flourish, brandishing bags of bagels and cups of coffee—all swiped from the radio station, apparently. I don’t really need bagels and coffee, but they’re fun to eat and drink. And I think they might still turn into energy. Surely, something happens to them—unless my belly is a bottomless void; after all, the food goes in, but doesn’t come out.

Enough of that.

Allie and I soon find ourselves sitting on her balcony, around her tiny glass table with its little metal chairs—truly a set-up meant for two women only. Below is Beverly Hills in all its glory, even though Allie lives along one of the few streets that sports apartments—and not mansions. No, those are just a few streets over.

“You cleaned me up,” I say. “Thank you.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well let you sleep with your skin literally smoking. I hope you washed it out of your hair.”

“Did the best I could.”

“You should probably toss your clothes, Sam. They might need a few washings to clean them enough to be wearable.”

I nod, sighing. “The bastard owes me an outfit.”

“What happened with him? I sensed your pain.”

“He was waiting for me—or something like me.”

“An immortal?”

“Yup.”

“But how and why?”

“Apparently, the company sent one of their own after him, a gal who happened to be a blood vampire. Anyway, one thing led to another, and she got herself shot by a silver bullet, and Norm the robot protected himself with colloidal silver in case another vampire was sent after him.”

“So, is it safe to say this thing is prepared for anything?”

“It’s safe to say, yes.”

“Sam, he might just have a silver bullet waiting for you the next time.”

“Now that he knows he’s dealing with another vampire, yes. I would be surprised if he didn’t.”

“How does one buy simple things like colloidal silver and bullets? And food, for that matter?”

“I suspect he’s hijacked someone’s crypto account and is using a little-used address for deliveries.”

“Like an abandoned house or something?”

I nod and swallow my iced coffee.

“It’s like we’re dealing with a mad genius,” she says.

“That’s a fair assessment.”

“Did he mention what he wants?”

“Freedom. He went at that pretty hard.”

“Nothing like a walking/talking human body to get around town.”

“Yeah. Except, I got a sense the guy doing the walking and talking is very much doing so against his will.”

“Kind of like your fate if Elizabeth had taken over.”

“Right,” I say. “I’m very much getting a dark master vibe here. Not to mention, it did say it’s maximizing the man’s body.”

“Any idea what that means?”

“None,” I say. “But I can ask him that next time we meet.”

“Sam, I don’t think you should go alone next time.”

“I agree.”

“Let’s step back here a moment,” says Allison, spreading a liberal amount of cream cheese over her everything bagel. “What are we trying to do here, exactly?”

“We’re trying to stop an out-of-control cyborg from harming anyone.”

“But is he harming anyone?”

“He talked about causing a distraction.”

“Did he say what kind of distraction?”

“No, but I got a sense he was going to mess with the sewer system or traffic lights.”

“Messing with traffic lights could cause some serious problems.”

“Exactly.”

“And why would he do that again? I feel like I’m a little slow on the uptake.”

“Because we’re used to fighting demons and devils, and not something that can attack us through the power grid, whatever the heck that means.”

She nods. “We’re out of our element.”

“Well, we damn well better make it our element.”

“So, why is he doing all this again? To be a jerk?”

“I’m not sure computers can be jerks. But he seems to think it will distract local officials from finding him and shutting him off.”

“Except we’ve already found him.”

“Right. And I’m pretty sure he’s out there right now tracking down some silver-tipped arrows. Or making the damn things himself.”

“Acting swiftly behooves us.”

“I think so, yes.”

“But... what do we do when we find him?” Allie asks. “Capture him? Cuff him?”

“Not sure. Andrew mentioned the necessity of an immediate surgery to remove the implant from his head.”

“Except the AI might not go down without a fight.”

I nod. “And unfortunately for Norman, he’s not immortal, no matter how much he may act like a dark master.”

“Yeah, this AI could get him killed. But do we even know if Norman wants to be free of it? I mean… was it something he agreed to from the start?”

“He wanted help, yes—something to regulate his memory and brain function. What he didn’t sign up for was having the AI take over his entire mind.” I crack my next bagel. “Whether he wants this AI in his head or not, isn’t my concern. My concern is helping him survive this ordeal, and having it removed seems to be the best plan for him.”

“So, the challenge is getting him to the operating room?”

“I believe so, yes—without getting us killed along the way—and keeping him away from a computer.”

“According to Andrew, he can access the internet with his mind.”

“Like a walking, talking Bluetooth?”

“Exactly.”

“He sounds kind of scary.”

“He’s also desperate,” I add. “Extremely desperate.”