The Recruit Read online

  “Nice meeting you, Jake,” she said warmly.

  Once alone, Dylan prepared to guide Rebecca to her next appointment.

  “That was fun,” she was saying as they exited the small office. “I like Jake.”

  “Of course, you do,” he sounded bitter, but Rebecca knew better.

  “You like him, too,” she bumped his arm.

  “He’s all right,” he admitted.

  After a short walk, they stopped in front of the following door. “You’re fun, too.”

  Dylan laughed. “Not everyone shares your view.”

  “You are.” She stopped to read the sign on the door. It was fancier than the one on Jake’s door. This one was metal over wood, with fancy letters carved on it. Dr. Hugh Stevens, it read. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

  Leaning over, she stole a kiss from his lips before her knuckles knocked on the door to Dr. Hugh Stevens’s office.

  Just like with the previous offices, Rebecca took in the ambiance of the psychologist’s private room. While monitors had covered Lucius and books had surrounded Jake, the office of Dr. Hugh Stevens was a complete mess.

  There didn’t seem to be room enough in the old bookshelves to hold everything the man owned, so a lot of it was in piles all around the floor surrounding his desk. The plant that had once lived in one corner of the office was dry and dead, and the texture and color of his desk could no longer be seen by the towers of books, files, and documents on top of it.

  Unlike Lucius’s technological office, Rebecca could not spot a tv or computer screen anywhere in the doctor’s office. She wondered if owning a computer could help organize the chaos in the tiny space.

  Like Thomas Fig, Jake Anders and Lucius, Dr. Hugh Stevens was not permeated by the scent of human blood around him, which made Rebecca assume she was meeting another vampire.

  She was wrong.

  Dr. Hugh Stevens was about Lucius’s age, although life had been harder on him. He was almost bald, wore a thick pair of glasses, and was even a little overweight. Not that any of that took the smile off his face.

  “Come in, come in,” Dr. Stevens welcomed them appearing from behind the mountain of paper on his desk. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Rebecca offered a shy smile until she realized there was an invisible force stopping her from offering her hand to Dr. Stevens. With both hands, she felt a glass wall dividing the desk from the living room area in the office.

  “What is this?” she said almost to herself. Dylan waited behind her.

  “Take a sit on the sofa, please,” offered Dr. Stevens instead of answering her question. He then turned to Dylan, “We’ll be all right, Torrence. I’ll call for you when we’re done.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Stevens,” Dylan said, patted Rebecca’s arm, and exited the room.

  Left alone, Rebecca walked to the sofa without taking her eyes off the clear glass. “You’re not a vampire, are you?”

  “Guilty as charged,” chuckled the old man. “I’m just human.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rebecca sat down.

  Thinking she may have been referring to the wall, Dr. Stevens said, “The glass is here for your benefit, Ms. Sawyer, not mine.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The wall. I know you are new at this and so my goal is to make our first talk as stress-free as possible. Even though this appointment is required, I want you to feel at ease. I want you to feel you can talk during these sessions. I promise you whatever you say inside these walls, will remain between us. This office is soundproof and the glass wall will allow us to have a conversation without distractions of any kind.”

  It finally dawned on Rebecca, “You think I will hurt you?”

  He avoided her question. “New vampires feel uncomfortable with the scent of human blood. This phenomenon doesn’t last long. The glass wall will allow us both to be more comfortable in the same room, but I assure you we won’t need it in a few days.” He then added, “Just ignore it, dear.”

  “All right,” she sounded unsure.

  “I’m Dr. Hugh Stevens. The agency’s psychologist,” he introduced himself formally.

  “I’m Rebecca. Rebecca Sawyer.”

  “Yes, I know all about you, Rebecca,” mused Dr. Stevens. “It’s a pleasure to put a face to the name. Dylan speaks so much about you when he visits. He couldn’t wait to have you here with him.”

  Rebecca heard him talk, still distracted by the glass wall that separated them. She had come out of Jake’s office thinking vampires were just as human as everyone else, and here she had a clear reminder a vampire was still a vampire.

  “I’ve never been to a psychologist,” said Rebecca absentmindedly, not know what else to say.

  “I’m harmless, I assure you,” said Dr. Stevens. “All we’ll do is have a nice chat. We’re just going to get to know each other a bit.”

  “A chat?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Stevens said. “It’s required by Lucius that I meet with all of you regularly.”

  “How regularly?”

  Dr. Stevens was thoughtful for a minute. “Well, that depends on each individual case. I see most once a year unless they have an additional need of me. If you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, you can make an appointment with Sean downstairs, he handles my agenda.” Rebecca nodded. “Although whenever we get a new recruit, I like to have a few sessions to break the ice and get you to relax and realize I'm here to help.”

  She wasn’t comfortable. Not in the least. Rebecca didn’t trust her thoughts to anyone. Back home she trusted Coleen; here, she had Dylan. She understood the visits with Dr. Stevens were a requirement, and she would fulfill it. Nothing else.

  “Is it okay if we talk?” he heard Dr. Stevens ask.

  “Sure, yes,” she forced a smile.

  “Well,” Dr. Stevens had a small stack of documents stapled together. Reading the first page, he began, “I am looking at your history, Rebecca, and I see you had two major accidents while you were still human.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The first one when you were three years old,” he focused his glasses as he read what looked like a report. “You had a hysterectomy, I see.”

  “Yes.”

  “You weren’t referred to any therapy,” he looked troubled to find out. “I see you had a knee injury years later. It's stated here you were referred to a therapist, but you didn’t go see her.”

  “I didn’t, no.”

  She was sure the shrink would ask her why. Why hadn’t she gone to see a psychologist after her life plans had ended when that dancer had dropped her on purpose? Why hadn’t she gone to talk to someone after she had that great loss?

  Except Dr. Stevens didn’t linger on her accidents, he moved on. Turning to the next page, he continued, “You were a dance teacher before coming here, correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He looked up from his notes to look at her through his eyeglasses, “You like to dance?”

  “I love it,” she said.

  This made him smile. “Wonderful, I love dancing myself,” he added. “What kind of dancer were you?”

  “Classical, mostly.”

  “Oh,” he sounded amazed. Mimicking feet with his hands, he asked, “You know how to get on your toes, I gather?”

  “I did. Once. Before the accident.”

  “The accident stopped your dancing, of course.” His face brightened up when he said, “Well, the good news is you’ll get your knee back, right? Vampire blood is amazing.”

  “Yes,” she couldn’t keep up the appearance she was miserable. Being able to dance again was something that made her happy; she couldn’t hide that. “I guess I'll be able to dance again.”

  “In New York?” he asked.

  “Uhm, well, no,” she said, confused. “I mean, I’m here. I will be a werewolf hunter. With Dylan.”

  “Oh, right,” he pretended ignorance. “You will hunt werewolves.”

  “That’s the plan.”

&nbs
p; He tapped his index finger to his chin a few times. “Have you ever seen a werewolf?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Scary creatures.” Rebecca didn’t understand what Dr. Stevens was trying to accomplish. “You're willing to trade dancing for werewolf hunting, then?”

  It sounded so silly. Hearing it from the shrink, it didn’t make sense.

  “Do you think I shouldn’t hunt werewolves?”

  He shrugged, “I don’t know. You’ll most certainly be equipped to fight them. I’m sure Dylan will train you well. In time, you may be a great werewolf hunter.”

  “Well, good.”

  “Do you want to be a werewolf hunter?”

  “If it means being with Dylan, I’m willing to give it a shot.” Dr. Stevens did nothing but nod his head in an endless motion. “Do you think I’m making a mistake?”

  He looked up at her. “Do you?”

  “No.”

  “All I want to impress on you is how you’ll be happier doing what you want, not what someone else tells you is the best for you.”

  She frowned, “Dylan isn’t forcing me.”

  “I’m glad,” Dr. Stevens said. “He’s a good man. His heart is in the right place, all he needs is someone to ground him.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Once more, Stevens nodded. He nodded for a long time. “I admire you for what you’re doing, Rebecca,” he sounded so serious. “I think you’re doing a brave thing, and if you become a werewolf hunter, you’ll be using your life for good. We need more werewolf hunters.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He smiled at her reply. “Nonetheless, I want you to be sure it’s your choice, Rebecca. It's important. Your body is a weapon now and accepting what you are and doing what you feel is right is fundamental to live a happy and productive life.”

  Rebecca listened to the words of wisdom. “It feels right.”

  “Of course it does,” Dr. Stevens was smiling again. “If it ever doesn’t feel right, come talk to me about it, all right?”

  Not knowing what to think or how to reply, Rebecca said. “Sure, I can do that.”

  Dr. Stevens looked genuinely pleased. “Wonderful, dear. Do you have any questions for me?”

  She did, she had one question. “Is our talk over?”

  “We can stop here if you want,” he offered.

  “I’m just not sure of what else to say.”

  Smiling warmly, he put the papers on the floor. “Then I guess we can stop. Just remember I am here for you if you ever need me.”

  “Will I be needing another session?”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to see you once a month for a while. How does that sound?”

  It sounded terrible. “Sure, that’s fine.”

  “Wonderful, wonderful.” Dr. Stevens put his hands together in pleasure. “I will set up a few appointments with Sean. They will appear in your device.”

  “I don’t have a device.”

  Dr. Stevens said, “You’ll get one soon enough.”

  Standing up, he was ready to end their time together. “It was so nice to meet you, Rebecca. You seem like a wonderful person. Dylan is lucky to have found you.” Rebecca smiled awkwardly. Heading for his desk, he began moving papers around looking for his phone. “I’ll call Dylan, he mustn’t be far.”

  Rebecca thanked him, waiting eagerly for Dylan to pick her up.

  “How did it go?” Dylan asked as they went down the stairs heading for the elevator.

  “It was… weird,” she confessed.

  “Weird?”

  “He told me to be sure I liked what I did.” That made Dylan smile. “Like, he said if I didn’t want to be a werewolf hunter, then I shouldn’t be one.”

  Raising his eyebrows, Dylan said, “Do you?”

  “I think I do.”

  “I’ll train you,” Dylan reminded her. “It’ll take some getting used to, but it’ll grow on you. You'll see.”

  “Will it?”

  The elevator door opened and they stepped inside. With a voice command, Dylan told the elevator where to go. “Once your training starts it’ll be easier to tell, I suppose.” He sounded disappointed; almost like he hadn’t liked Dr. Stevens for getting ideas into her head.

  She took his hand, “I’m not going anywhere, Dylan. Not yet.”

  “I hope so,” he smiled nervously. “I’ve gone through a lot to get you here. I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I won’t,” she reassured him.

  They were quiet on their way down. They were quiet on their walk back to her apartment. They were quiet as Dylan walked to the fridge to see what there was in it to eat. Quietly, he left the refrigerator to face her again.

  “I’ll understand if you want to leave,” he confessed.

  “I won’t leave,” she insisted. Deep down it bothered her he was giving up like that. “I want to do this, I want to try. I didn’t go through all of this to just leave tomorrow, Dylan. I know it sounds crazy, but somehow I know this is where I should be. I-”

  A sharp sound started in her head. Out of nothing, the world around her turned louder. It startled her, making her dizzy. Soon, she couldn’t find her balance. Her hands were covering her ears, but it didn’t seem to help in any way.

  “Becca?” Dylan’s voice was different. It now had an echo to it, almost as if he were speaking through a microphone or was inside a cave.

  “Stop… talking,” she mumbled through gritted teeth, but even the sound of her own voice was deafening. With her hands covering both ears, Rebecca struggled to understand what was going on.

  And she knew; she knew what was happening.

  Except, it didn’t matter how much Dylan had explained it would be like, there wasn’t any way to know what it would really feel like until it happened. It wasn’t painful like her transformation had been, but it still hurt. It felt like losing control of reality; almost like the floor disappeared and there weren’t any more physical boundaries. She felt like falling, like she needed to hang onto something or she would lose control.

  She felt Dylan holding her, guiding her some place she couldn’t reach. Eventually, she felt him carrying her to her bed. She had closed her eyes, her hands on her ears. Behind her lips, she felt her long fangs. It was a total loss of control and she couldn’t figure out how to regain it. It wasn’t as easy as standing in front of a mirror and willing her teeth back inside her gums or forcing her eye color to change. This was different.

  For a moment she believed the noise would never end. She began to believe she would live her life like that, with the world shouting sharply next to her ear.

  Feeling Dylan’s hands on her arms, she let him help her up to a sitting position on the bed. He was kneeling in front of her and she could see how worried he was.

  “Did it pass?” he asked her. “I remember it doesn’t last long.”

  Almost as if his words had caused it, the noise slowed down. It stopped hurting and the initial shock passed. All that remained was to let her pounding head settle down. It was like a drum, tum-tum-tum, a sound she realized was closer than she first thought. No. It was near because it wasn't a drum, it was her heart. She could hear it loud and clear because it was inside her. Another drum joined the symphony suddenly. Dylan’s heart. That had to be Dylan’s heart. It was unbelievable. One trembling hand reached for his chest.

  He put his hand over hers, understanding what she was hearing. “It’s my heart.” His voice vibrated inside her. Looking back at his face, she found him smiling proudly. “I can hear yours, too. I like hearing it. It tells me more than you know.”

  He was right. Soon she, too, would know when he was calm or agitated, sad or excited. From now on, if she listened closely, she would be able to tell many things about the people around her if she was willing to pay attention.

  “How do I turn it off?” she asked, hopeful the answer would be easy.

  Dylan closed his eyes as he shook his head, “You can’t.”


  “Never?”

  “Well, no,” Dylan said. “You just send the useless sounds to the back. You’ll do it naturally in a few days.”

  Not sure she was okay with that, Rebecca could do nothing but acknowledge her new reality, “All right.”

  Dylan helped her to her feet, holding her near him; his smile was pleasant and inviting, “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m not sure,” she confessed. “Overwhelmed?”

  He pulled her in for a kiss. It was tender and reassuring. Although the moment didn’t last long. With one hand, he reached for his device, pressed a button, and waited for someone to pick up his phone. Rebecca heard a man on the other side of the line. Hello? Then, Dylan uttered, “Fig? She’s ready.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Training

  WINTER, 2000

  Rebecca felt like Dylan was dragging her like a child who doesn’t want to go to the dentist. After his call had ended with the weapons expert, he had taken her hand and had started on his way. Nothing else seemed to matter.

  “Slow down, Dylan,” Rebecca begged him, but he only stopped when they had reached the elevator. Once inside, he spoke the words that would take them to the shooting range, Sublevel 2. “We’re going up?” Rebecca stated the obvious, noting where the shooting range was for future reference. Dylan nodded, only now that Rebecca could hear his heartbeat, she knew he was everything but calm. The world was now louder and the buzzing in the back of her head hadn’t ceased, but a few minutes after the super hearing had kicked in and the surrounding noise had settled down, she knew it would be something she could learn to live with. “I don’t understand,” Rebecca protested as the elevator moved closer to ground level, “I mean, what’s the urgency?”

  He didn’t answer her. It was like he hadn't even heard her. Whatever he was thinking was taking all his attention from the real world.

  Before Rebecca could ask any more, the elevator door opened on sublevel two, home of the agency's shooting range. Once again, Dylan guided the way and Rebecca followed.

  “It’s right this way,” Dylan stated. “Fig is already there. He was about to call it a night, and we’re just lucky it happened when it happened.”