“I can even grow a beard,” he scratched his chin.
"Wait. What does growing a beard have anything to do with-?"
“Just hear me out first,” he stopped her. “Just… listen to what I have to say, all right?”
“You’re not making any sense, Dylan.”
He sighed. “I know. I just… this is not easy.”
“Do you need anything? Some more wine? A glass of water, maybe? Whatever helps you relax.”
That made him laugh and Rebecca laughed nervously with him even when she had no idea what was so funny about what she’d just said. “No. Thank you.”
After she saw he went silent again, she started him on the topic one more time. “What do you want to tell me, Dylan?”
“Right. Right,” his voice shook, unsure. “See, I do all those things because, deep down, I am, like you say, just a man.”
“Of course, you are.”
“No. You can’t know, that’s the thing…”
This alerted Rebecca, “Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me you aren’t human?”
“Well…”
“Do you think you’re from another planet?”
Finding the suggestion amusing, he shook his head. “No.”
“I’m glad you’re glad you’re not an alien, but I’m still very confused.”
“I can understand that.”
“You keep saying that!” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice this time, but he left her no choice. “Please, it’ll be much easier for both of us if you just tell me. Please.”
“Okay, you’re right,” he nodded in agreement. Yet, when he spoke, he kept going in circles: “You know how you say that- that you feel like something’s missing from your life and you wonder what would have happened if you'd been different? Or how you have told me life has to be more than this?”
“Yes… but, I thought that you-” his hand stopped her.
“Just, hear me out,” he shook his head. “See, if you actually knew what I do for a living, you’d find it funny that I’m scared of talking to you. It’s ironic, really.”
“I’m that horrible?” The insult hadn’t taken her anywhere closer to the truth.
“No, I didn’t mean it that way.” She accepted his apology just to make him focus on what he was supposed to tell her. “The truth will sound so unbelievable that I… that you won’t even believe me when I tell you.” His eyes grew after he said this, straightening up in his seat. “Wait, let’s do this.” He had an idea. Without warning, he started his way to the kitchen. There, he frantically looked in the drawers for something. When he joined her back in the living room, he was holding a carving knife in his hand.
“What is that?” Rebecca asked, feeling afraid of him for the first time and moving behind the sofa.
“A knife.” Yes, she knew what it was, but why did he need it in his hand? Was the big secret he was a serial killer?
She watched as he put the sharp object on the coffee table. With his free hands he pulled one of his sleeves over his elbow.
“I know it’s a knife, but what are you doing with it?” Instead of answering, Dylan took the blade tightly in one hand, held it in front of him, and cut his arm. It was a deep four or five-inch wound. “Stop! What are you doing?” It was too late; Rebecca saw the blood running from the wound down to the coffee table. Hurrying around the sofa, she took Dylan's other hand, taking him back to the kitchen and opening the faucet. “You’re crazy, we gotta call 911!”
“No, we don’t.” Dylan let her put his arm under the running water and watched as his blood disappeared down the drain.
“This is bad!” Or was it? The water kept running, but it was no longer stained with blood. The bleeding had stopped. Carefully, Rebecca examined his arm trying to understand what had happened. Dylan let her take his other arm to examine it as well. She found nothing.
“I’m fine,” he breathed.
Letting him go, Rebecca backed away from him. “What are you?”
Dylan closed his eyes, letting Rebecca’s words cripple him. Rebecca would later understand what it felt like to be called a thing and not a person; yet until that day came, she only heard him say: “I told you. I’m different.”
“You aren’t human?” Dylan shook his head after hearing her gasp. “Then… what are you?”
“I’m someone who won’t die. Someone who could live forever. I’m someone that…”
“What?” There was more, she could tell, but so far it had been enough to rattle her.
“Don’t be afraid of me.” It had sounded more like a plea than a command.
“There’s more to it, isn’t it?” He nodded. “And I’m not going to like it, am I?” He shook his head from side to side. No, she wouldn’t like it. Rebecca swallowed hard, “Why are you here? With me?”
Dylan stared at her for a long time. “Because, I… I want you to become like me.”
Her weak laughter was unexpected, even for her. That was the question he wanted her to answer. “Why would I want to be like you?”
"Well, because-" He exhaled, his voice already sounded defeated, like he had already lost the battle, knowing she would never understand him; knowing she would never agree to become immortal. "Because I know what you could be and - and you’ve talked about doing something different. Well, this is it. Think about all those accidents. If you come with me, then nothing else will hurt you. Your knee will heal and you will never grow old." Never grow old? Just how old was he? "This is your chance, Rebecca. What I am offering is another life. With me. Far away from all of this. What I’m offering you will make you-"
"Immortal." She understood.
“Yes,” Dylan smiled at the word, at the way she had said it; because he’d known she had considered it a reality if only for a second. “And powerful. For the first time, you’ll be able to do everything you’ve ever wanted to do; you’ll know things few people know about and-”
“-and I’ll be with you?” Had he even realized what he’d said? He wanted them to be together? Forever?
“Yes. I’d really like that, wouldn’t you?” Watching her think it through, he reassured her he didn’t need her answer right away. “Take your time. You have my number. You can call me any time. It’ll give you time to think and to decide if you still want to see me. I’ll give you all the time you need.”
“What if I don’t call?”
“I won’t give up until you tell me to stop. Believe it or not, this is important to me and you have no idea how special you are. There aren’t many people in the world like you.”
Dylan licked his lips, starting his way back to his tie and jacket resting on the sofa. Rebecca didn’t stop him. She could still remember how Dylan’s blood had felt on her fingers even when it had all gone down the drain and her hands were clean now.
She didn’t move when he leaned over to kiss her cheek.
This was the first time he had ever kissed her, and his lips had felt so cold against her skin. That made Rebecca remember there was something else. “Wait, you said there is something else.” She touched her cheek where Dylan had touched her with his lips, her hand felt warm to the touch. He was always so cold. The answer came to her suddenly. It sounded impossible in her head. So improbable she didn’t want to admit it as truth. Except she knew. She knew the reason he was always so cold. “You said there was something else about you. What is it?”
Not stopping, Dylan kept walking until he reached the door. Preparing to leave, he turned to look at her again. “You're right, there is something.” She saw his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed with difficulty. If she was right, then she didn’t understand why someone like him would be afraid to tell her what he was. He reached for the doorknob before he spoke. “You see, technically,” the door opened behind him, he gave a step out of the house. “Technically, I’m a vampire.”
Her heart stopped for a moment. Dylan closed the door behind him and Rebecca fell to the floor, her knees unable to support her any longer. By the time s
he heard his car start outside, she was sobbing on the carpet. By the time she heard him drive away, her world was gone.
Maybe Dylan was right.
Maybe it had been something she shouldn’t have known. Something she couldn’t handle. Perhaps he hadn’t known her as well as he thought he did and now…
She had come so close to finding someone she could be with forever, except…
…except this forever was not what she had in mind.
The world was a strange place. It doesn’t take but ten minutes in front of a TV to realize that whatever you think about your life might not be the same as what someone else thinks about theirs. Some do drugs, others art, and some have a thousand friends. Some jump off planes and others lock themselves home afraid to come out. There are all kinds of crazy out there, but as strange as everything is, it doesn't compare to what Rebecca learned in one night.
Her reality changed totally and completely. The words stranger than fiction had a different meaning now. What Dylan had told her changed everything. It made her wonder how many like him there were; how many vampires existed.
And not only that, how about other fantastical and fictional creatures. Were they real, too? How many would turn out not to be imaginary at all? It made her wonder if the people who wrote books or produced movies knew what was out there. Or what if they were one of them? What if they had been telling stories of their true selves all along?
For a few days she was in denial, thinking it had all been a bad dream. Then she would see the knife, and the image of the red of his blood going down the drain would come back. If only she hadn’t seen what she had seen. If only she could forget what she had learned. She had wanted this truth, but maybe some people shouldn’t get what they wanted. There was a reason secrets were kept.
No matter her state of shock, she felt she needed to give him an answer.
No. The answer was no!
But, was it the right answer?
No matter how hard she tried to convince herself Dylan was a monster, even if all she remembered about him was how nice, decent, and human he was. Perhaps for all ends and purposes, he was just a man.
There was no one she trusted more.
She now understood why he had kept his secret and couldn't blame him. She would have done the same. Besides, if she refused him she would prove to him she wasn't to be trusted, what would that say about herself? He had put it all on the line because he trusted her.
It was a complicated question to answer. He was right.
Dylan Torrence - a vampire.
All Rebecca needed to do was agree to become a vampire and their relationship would move to the next level. Wasn't that what she had wanted all along?
Or, she could remain human and be alone.
It wasn't fair.
What wasn't fair was Dylan disappearing without answering any of her questions.
Sure, she had gone catatonic after he'd left, but she still had questions.
For days she had been making a list of pros and cons in her head. What would happen if she turned into a vampire? What did that even mean? What did she know about vampires, anyway? From watching Dylan she knew the sun didn't affect them, they could grow body hair, and they didn't need to drink blood. Oh, and they were immortal with the ability to heal from life-threatening wounds.
Whatever he was, she missed him; she could not deny that.
Did she miss him enough to give him a chance?
An idea came to her. What about Tom Anderson? He claimed he knew him, right? Did he know what he actually was? Had Dylan coerced him that night into saying they were best friends? Or maybe controlled him with some telepathic power?
There was only one way to find out.
Rebecca prayed it would be Mr. Anderson who answered the door; that would have made things easier. To her dismay, however, she faced her former ballet teacher and current employer, the always gentle, Margaret Anderson.
Rebecca loved Mrs. Anderson, with her now gray hair always in a bun behind her head and the sweet smile that had always welcomed her as no one else had. Unfortunately, this was the one time when she would have preferred not to see her at all. Since she always visited that house exclusively when she needed Coleen, it would raise questions when she showed up looking for the Chief of Police. It was a necessary evil.
Just as predicted, Mrs. Anderson frowned in confusion when she opened the door, staring at her with curiosity as she led her to the living room to wait while she fetched her husband. Thankfully, she refrained from asking questions. It was a Sunday, and the Andersons usually attended an early service, they went out for brunch at the club, and returned home by one o’clock. In that town, everybody knew that and more.
It didn’t take Mr. Anderson long to sit in front of her, with his Sunday afternoon’s comfortable clothes, slippers, and a glass of that same sweet tea Mrs. Anderson had offered her a few minutes before.
“How can I help you, young lady?” asked Mr. Anderson trying to hide his curiosity behind a broad smile. “I must say I’m surprised to see you here, Becca. Not to be rude or unwelcoming, but your visits always involve my wife or my daughter.” He rested his elbows on the chair. “What can I do for you today? Not in any trouble, I hope.”
Taking a deep breath, Rebecca filled herself with courage and said: “I’m here because you know Dylan Torrence, Mr. Anderson,” she swallowed. “You seemed like good friends at Coleen’s wedding reception.”
Watching out for his first reaction, Rebecca noticed the Chief of Police shrug and look away; she could have sworn she saw his face turning red. Mr. Anderson cleared his throat and looked as if he wanted the Earth to swallow him whole.
“I can’t talk about that, Becca. I’m sorry,” he began. “Like I told Coleen when she asked, I can’t answer any questions regarding agent Torrence. Surely my daughter told you as much when-”
“But, why?” she cut him off bluntly. “You invited him to your daughter’s wedding. You said you knew him… you-”
“And I can’t talk about it. I just can’t talk about it,” he repeated. “Please understand, Becca. It’s not that I don’t want to answer your questions, it’s just that I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t, sir?”
Mr. Anderson stared at her patiently. “Can’t,” he stated. “He is a government agent, his life is private.” Sighing, Tom Anderson noticed how frustrated she looked and changed his approach, “Look, I can tell you this much: you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Becca. I know he’s been in town more than I’d like this past year, and I know he’s been here to see you. I’m just going to suggest that you be careful.”
“Why? Is he dangerous?”
“It’s not that,” his answer had come easy, his lip curled into a smile. Rebecca could tell he sincerely wanted to help her. “I just want you to be careful, that’s all,” he insisted. “I know my daughter loves you and you are friends. I also know I shouldn’t answer any more of your questions about Dylan Torrence. You can ask him your questions yourself. It seems you’ve grown quite attached to him.”
“He is very… very private, like you say.”
“He has reason to be.”
“Why do you say that?” She wasn’t there to betray Dylan's secret to anyone, even if this man probably already knew the truth. She still hoped she would get Mr. Anderson to say it. Dylan is a vampire.
When Mr. Anderson finally shook his head one last time, she knew it was pointless to insist. Standing up, the Chief of Police looked down at her before excusing himself. “Look, Becca, if he ever is ready, then you’ll know why I can’t speak about him.” Then, “But he may never be ready and then you can be sure you’ll be waiting for a very long time for the answers you seek.”
“What if I know why he’s so private already? What if he already told me?”
It was risky, she knew, and now all that was left was for her to wait and see what Mr. Anderson said after hearing that.
After enough time had passed, the Chie
f of Police laughed, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “I doubt you know, my dear. I doubt you’d want to keep seeing him if you did. And even if you think you know I’m still not going to answer any of your questions. You simply don’t have clearance.”
Time passed, and as much as Rebecca thought about her dilemma, the more she realized she was more curious than scared. Gathering her strength, she dialed his number and waited for his voice; when it came, it was a recording—relief filled her. She suspected Dylan had avoided answering her call on purpose, but she couldn’t decide if it was because he didn’t want to scare her or if he feared she would reject him with a call.
The message was short, not revealing anything. All she wanted was to see him. The message included a day, time, and location where she would be waiting. She chose her favorite Italian restaurant, La Luna, because it was a public place where she would be safe in case of an emergency. Rebecca doubted she would be in any danger, but she wanted to play it safe. She was meeting a vampire after all.
The possibility that Dylan wouldn’t show was there, but Rebecca figured if he was as interested as he claimed, then he would not miss their appointment. If he did, then the decision would be made for her.
Dylan showed up right on time in his dark suit and tie that evening. Rebecca couldn’t decide if his appearance made him look more like a menace or more like a civil gentleman. It was a coin toss. No longer did he fool her with his appearance, behind the normal exterior was a creature pretending to be human.
Rebecca had arrived early, and when he stood in front of her to ask her if he could join her, she nodded her head once.
“How are you?” To her surprise, his voice sounded like it always did, it seemed he hadn't faked that. Looking into his eyes, she tried to find proof that this creature was dangerous and threatening, but as much as she studied him she couldn’t find anything wrong with him.
They looked at each other in silence for over a minute. Rebecca trying to decide how their relationship had changed after the big secret had been revealed, and Dylan probably scared he would say the incorrect remark, question or comment that would lead her to believe he meant her harm.
The Recruit Page 7