The Recruit Page 11

  Opening her eyes, Rebecca sat down in bed feeling completely renewed, it felt like the Earth wasn't pulling her to its center as strongly; not like it used to. Her muscles were changing. They would keep changing in the days to come. Soon, her fragile frame would hold more power than she thought possible. She would be able to do things she never imagined. It excited her and yet she feared it would take her farther away from what she once was, human.

  Taking the covers off her legs, she bent her knee to reach it with both hands. Since she was nineteen years old, the pain in her knee had forbidden her to dance like she wanted. It had been the reason she had to quit her rising career in dance. One thing Dylan had promised had been her injury would disappear. It would take time, but eventually, there wouldn't be any pain as the body found a way to improve itself. Rebecca moved her leg from one side to the other, rotating her knee in a way she never thought she would again. There wasn't any pain, not anymore. With her fingers, she pressed on the scar that was left as a reminder of the accident. Nothing. In fact, she was certain the scar, which had been her companion for almost a decade, was fading away. Unbelievable.

  She wished she could have packed her old pointe shoes in her bag because she had a sudden desire to dance. Imagine dancing without pain, she thought. Unfortunately, they were in one of the boxes that would come later that day, or perhaps even the next day. She wasn't sure. If not for the constant hunger that distracted her from these thoughts, she was sure she had been given a gift when she turned into a vampire. It couldn’t be a curse.

  Her appointment with the director of the vampire agency would take place later that day. It was still early; according to her alarm clock, she had time for a good breakfast and even a little exploring once Dylan came to pick her up. He'd said he wouldn't work at all that day and would be available to offer his support when she met Lucius, the oldest vampire Dylan knew.

  He sounded scary.

  Not only was he the boss, but he had also been alive for over a thousand years. No one was sure how old he truly was because no one had been around when he'd been turned.

  The phone rang and she ran to pick it up. It had to be Dylan.

  "Hello?"

  “Are you awake?” Yes, it was Dylan.

  She liked hearing his voice. “I’m awake.” Rebecca wondered if Dylan could hear the apprehension in her tone. Meeting the director of the agency was a step closer into making her transition into a werewolf hunter more real.

  Dylan said, “I’m on my way to pick you up.”

  After the call ended, Rebecca took one last glance at the clock, stood up, and walked to the bathroom. She needed a shower.

  When she came out of her room Dylan was waiting in the middle of her living room. Rebecca wore a long black skirt and blouse she had owned for years. She had brought them to be presentable on the day she would meet the director of the vampire agency. As she dried and brushed her hair, she heard Dylan come in. She didn’t need any superpowers to hear him, since he had been loudly discussing something over the phone when he entered her apartment. Rebecca saw his handsome frame giving her his back with his phone glued to his ear. He had chosen a navy blue suit for the occasion.

  “I won’t be there until a few more hours,” he was saying. “I want to talk to him myself, so keep him alive for as long as you can. Do you understand? Good.”

  His voice was commanding and harsh… cold. It was almost like hearing a completely different person. It brought her back to the first time she’d call him. He’d answer with the same tone of voice. This is Torrence, he’d said. With one hand in his pants’ left pocket, he hung up the phone, returning it to his jacket. When he looked at Rebecca, his entire demeanor changed with a smile.

  She said, “I’m ready for breakfast." Rebecca welcomed him with a kiss on her way to the kitchen. "I'm running out of ham, by the way. How do I go about getting some more? Do I just go to a supermarket?"

  "There's a convenience store here," Dylan explained. "Actually, I'm here early to show you the fifteen floor. That's where the store is, so we can kill two birds with one stone."

  She couldn't help but smile at the suggestion. "I can't wait to look around. But, shouldn't we have something to eat first? I'm starving, aren't you?"

  "Let's go to the fifteenth floor first. There's something I want to show you."

  Confused, she didn’t try to follow him. "But, I’m hungry and you said-"

  "I promise it won't take but a minute."

  Dylan extended his arm to offer his hand. He looked dashing in his suit, with his hair perfectly combed and his face cleanly shaved; he was irresistible. Rebecca reluctantly took his hand and let him guide her outside the safety of the apartment.

  This was the third time Rebecca had a chance to study the agency's underground complex, and she was glad to find it becoming more familiar. It wasn't as overwhelming as the first time she had stepped foot on it two days ago. The enormous rectangular prism went down fifteen floors. Her apartment was on the fifth floor, which made the way down look abysmal. Still, she could see the trees and grass that grew at the very bottom with clarity. It still distracted her how impossible it was to tell whether it was day or night outside, yet the initial sense of claustrophobia had mostly disappeared from her mind. She hadn't been there long, but she knew it wouldn't take much time for her to get used to the place.

  “Will we be going out soon?” Rebecca was pointing to the ceiling, where the outside world waited, with her index finger.

  Dylan shook his head, “I wouldn’t go outside, not yet.”

  Rebecca wanted to protest, but she understood. After all, she still remembered the scent of human blood from the day before, and couldn't imagine being in a room with a hundred humans imbued with that wonderful scent. She would lose her mind.

  This morning, Rebecca noticed over one person walking around the hallways in the other floors of the complex. Vampires, she thought. They seemed to mind their own business, coming or going wherever they needed in silence. It was still early and Rebecca wondered if there was a time when most of the others were out and about.

  Dylan stopped right in front of the elevator and waited. He didn't say a word, didn't utter a command. Rebecca wondered if all the elevator did was to feel their presence to know it was needed. It had, after all, opened automatically when she had wanted to use it the day before. This time, Rebecca noticed a door next to the elevator with a symbol for stairs in a plaque next to it. She hadn't been paying attention before, it seemed.

  The elevator door opened, and they stepped inside. Dylan told it where he wanted to go. "Sublevel 15."

  The door closed again and the metallic box began to move. “Will there be other vampires where we’re going?”

  Instead of answering her question, Dylan looked up to say, “Elevator stop.” The elevator halted; Rebecca had to hold on to the wall trying to keep her balance.

  “What’s wrong?” she wondered out loud. Had it been something she said?

  In reply, Dylan faced her, seeming to be looking for the right set of words, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

  “About what?” Was it something he'd forgotten to mention?

  “About that word: vampire.”

  “What about it?”

  "It’s taboo. We don’t speak it. Nobody here says it." He reconsidered, "Rarely says it."

  “Why?”

  “We just don’t.”

  She wasn’t sure she understood, “But, you say it all the time.”

  “I’ve been saying it because you needed to know what I was,” he explained. “I needed to say it because you had to be sure you wanted to become one. But, the word vampire? It has such a negative connotation that… we don’t speak it. We refer to ourselves as men and women - people, not vampires.”

  She had never thought about it, but it made perfect sense.

  Running a quick scenario in her head, she tried to predict the time when she'd reveal to Coleen what she'd become. Would she be able to sp
eak those words? I am a vampire. Not likely. It felt strange. She didn't want to be a freak or a monster. She didn't feel like one.

  “I guess the word vampire is associated with… evil,” she reflected.

  "I won't lie," Dylan confessed. "Not all vampires follow our rules. There are a few bad apples who give us a bad reputation. Those vampires are dangerous and we hunt them down just like we hunt down werewolves."

  “They can't be more dangerous than someone with a gun,” she suggested.

  “They're worse.” Dylan assured her. “The vampires who work here have the job to protect humans from those vampires and other threats because we're the only ones who can. We make sure powerful creatures follow the country's laws. That’s why this agency exists.” He wasn’t done. Staring at her, he continued, “There will always be vampires and werewolves, Becca. We can’t help that. If we’re here, it’s because we’re trying to make a difference.”

  Aware he was trying to remind her what she had signed up for, Rebecca nodded. “I know.”

  Dylan looked satisfied with her answer. He turned to one wall to command the elevator to move forward with their route. “Sublevel 15,” he instructed.

  The elevator continued the journey.

  The numbers on the display reappeared, showing the floors they passed until they reached their destination. When the number fifteen displayed, and the door was about to open, Rebecca thought of a question. “Where do you live, Dylan? Where's your apartment?”

  “Ninth floor. Apartment 12,” he said without hesitation. “I’d invite you over, but it’s not quite guest friendly.”

  There wasn't an opportunity to seek out more details. The elevator door opened before her, making her freeze. The view in front of her was breathtaking; with a plethora of sounds and smells enough to focus her attention on the sight presented to her. How did natural grass and live trees survive underground? It had to be something the vampires could accomplish with the technology they possessed. The scent of fresh mowed grass and wet soil fascinated her. The fountain in the middle provided with a soothing cascade of water. Around the park, several benches offered a retreat from the reality they lived in. It was impressive, truly impressive.

  The beauty and tranquility of the place were interrupted when Rebecca spotted another vampire. Like the others she'd met, he didn't look like one at all. The only sign he was one of them was his scent. He did not smell of the human blood she had been so fond of the day before. The black-skinned man sitting on one of the park’s benches was reading a book. He didn’t seem disturbed by their presence; it was almost as if he was oblivious to the company. Instinctively, Rebecca gasped, gripping Dylan's arm. She didn't want the man to notice their presence.

  “Wait,” she begged when Dylan began exiting the elevator.

  Dylan stopped, no doubt inferring what the problem was. Turning to face her, he offered a kind smile, one that could easily be confused by a smirk.

  "You’re fine," he reminded her. "You eventually must know all of your neighbors."

  Swallowing nervously, she turned to stare at the man again. “Who is he?” she whispered. The middle-aged man was several feet away, but turned his head when he heard her ask the question. Calmly, he put his book down on the bench and looked in their direction expecting to be introduced.

  “That’s Thomas Fig,” Dylan told her dragging her by the arm to get closer to the stranger. “You’ll like him.”

  “Is he an agent?” Rebecca kept whispering. Not that it mattered, if Thomas Fig was a vampire, then he probably heard them talking since they had come out of the apartment.

  Thomas Fig stood up and patiently waited for them to approach him with a friendly demeanor. Unlike Dylan, who wore his impeccable dark blue suit and tie, Mr. Fig wore an old, plaid shirt and baggy, worn jeans. He looked nothing like a government agent, at least not like Dylan did. Once they were close enough, he smiled and gave a few steps forward to close the distance between them. Extending his arm, he said, “Mr. Torrence.” The man had a slight Southern accent. “What have we here?” Turning to Rebecca, he also offered his hand to her. For a while, she stared at him to the point of being rude. After a nudge from Dylan, she took the man’s hand and shook it.

  “This is Rebecca Sawyer,” Dylan spoke for her while watching her take her hand back.

  Mr. Fig looked a little uncomfortable with the exchange, but let it pass. Turning back to Dylan, he asked, “Is this the young lady we’ve been discussing?”

  Pursing his lips, Dylan nodded. “Yes. I apologize, she’s still very new at this.”

  Rebecca let Thomas Fig study her. When he was satisfied, he said, “Well, Ms. Sawyer, how ever did you manage to tame Mr. Torrence is a mystery to me.”

  After hearing those words, Dylan let go of her hand causing Thomas Fig to laugh. Rebecca’s blood went to her face in embarrassment and she wondered if Dylan was feeling the same.

  Dylan cleared his throat and, with a newfound sense of authority, interrupted him with, “Tell me, are the weapons ready?”

  It had sounded harsh, but in his defense, Thomas Fig had provoked him.

  “Yes, Torrence, yes,” he slurred. Then, he turned to Rebecca again, “You don’t look like a warrior, Ms. Sawyer, all due respect.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Fig left her without an answer to address Dylan again, “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, boy.”

  “I know what I’m doing.” Once again his tone was sharp and a little offended.

  “Well, how new is she at this?” was Fig’s next question. “The whole vampire thing, I mean.”

  “A few days. Her hearing hasn’t broken in yet.”

  Fig raised his eyebrows in understanding, “I see. Well, let me know when she’s ready. I’ve been waiting for this day for months. Dying to try my new babies out, you see.” It must’ve been because he saw the confusion on her face that made him say, “You have a high expectation to reach, Ms. Sawyer.”

  “What?”

  “Best werewolf hunter alive needs a respectable partner,” chuckled Mr. Fig. “From my understanding, you don’t even have much experience with weapons. Am I right, Torrence?”

  Dylan intervened, “She'll be all right.”

  “I sure hope so, Torrence. I sure hope so.” The old man looked at his watch. “It’s late, I better go back to work. Had extended my breakfast more than I should, anyway. Those guns don't get made themselves if you know what I mean.” They waited for him to retrieve the book he had left on the park’s bench. When he returned to them, he extended his hand one more time for Rebecca to shake, “A pleasure to meet you, miss.”

  This time, Rebecca took it without fear.

  “Nice to meet you, too.”

  In reply, Thomas Fig laughed again. He was laughing as he started his way to the elevator. “Knows what he’s doing he says,” he muttered while he kept walking away. “We’ll see, Torrence. We’ll see.”

  Once they made sure Thomas Fig was out of range, Rebecca turned to Dylan for an explanation.

  "He’s our weapon’s expert," he said for an answer. That explained something, but not all. Dylan had a little more to share, "I’ve described you to him so he can make weapons for you. I wanted you to practice with the guns you’ll be using. They are made just for you." Rebecca didn’t find that as surprising as she should; she knew exactly what she’d signed up for. "Fig’s been around since the Vietnam War and weapons are his specialty. He manages everything from guns to explosives for the agency. You can imagine how excited he was when I first mentioned I needed weapons for my new partner."

  Rebecca knew nothing about guns, but Dylan had told her they could wait until they arrived at the agency before he trained her on their use. It was one of the few things she was most looking forward to, so much she had wanted to start training back home. Learning there was a gun created especially for her was a nice surprise.

  "You told me you were good at what you did," Rebecca reflected out loud. "Are you supposed to be the best
?"

  Dylan cleared his throat and evaded her eyes, walking past the fountain. “Some say.”

  “Thomas Fig said best.” Dylan kept walking in silence in front of her. When he kept ignoring her, she added, "And what did that mean when he said I tamed you?"

  There was a triumphant smile on her face, which disappeared when she noticed Dylan wasn't amused. Pretending she hadn't said anything, he acted like there were other important things that required their attention. Rebecca struggled to keep up with him. “You meet with Lucius in a few hours and there’s something I have to show before you do.”

  “I’d also like to eat something soon,” Rebecca said, “I’m starving.” Dylan stopped enough for Rebecca to catch up with him. “What do you want to show me?”

  Giving one step forward was all Dylan needed to activate the automatic lights. In front of them, a series of fluorescent lights turned on, reacting to a motion sensor, to show a glass wall with the words Convenience Store carved on it. Rebecca could see rows of shelves filled with groceries, very much like a regular convenience store has, behind the glass walls.

  “Most things you’ll need are here,” he heard him say.

  She stared at the store open-mouthed. The vampires had thought of everything. There was just a tiny little detail that caught her eye. “Where’s the clerk?”

  "Everything is automatic. You scan the item in a machine right there," he pointed to a computer screen on a stand, "and the computer does the inventory reduction."

  She was still trying to make sense of everything she was looking at. “Who restocks the place?”

  Dylan glanced in her direction, "We have others who take care of this part of the complex."