She wasn't sure she agreed with that. "Great.”
He turned to face her, “I say we begin.”
“Right.” She rolled her head and stretched her shoulders. Rebecca was wearing a baggy old pair of sweatpants she had owned for forever; she had tried to get rid of them when she had unpacked her belongings months ago, but Dylan had persuaded her to keep that pair. Now she knew why. The exercise they were about to begin required her to be shot - shot several times. Dylan had warned she would never wear those sweatpants again.
“I’m ready,” he announced.
Rebecca sighed, “I’ve never been shot."
Dylan paid no attention to her. Instead, he took the loaded weapon by the grip with his left hand and offered it to her. “Here, take my gun.”
Confused and intrigued, she reached for it and took it, no questions asked. The gun felt strange in her hand as if she was holding something forbidden. It was Dylan's gun and she doubted he offered it lightly.
Staring at it with interest, she said, “You want me to shoot myself?”
“No,” he didn’t even find it funny. “You can shoot me first. That way, we’ll be even.” Shrugging, he offered a smile, “It’s only fair, I think.”
“Fair would be when no one shoots anyone,” Rebecca concluded in a mumble.
“In this job, Becca, you will get shot. A lot. You understand that, right?”
Grimacing, she said, “Have you ever been shot?”
“Hundreds of times. Thousands.”
“That's a lot of times,” she mused. “Nice.”
“Come on,” he pointed to the gun. “It's not that big a deal. We heal. You’ll heal. Better do it right now instead of in a room filled with people where you can lose control of all your senses from the pain.”
She nodded, knowing that was the point of the exercise, to handle the pain of a shot wound while avoiding her vampire side to reveal itself.
Staring at the gun in her hand, Rebecca resigned herself and slowly raised her arm until she pointed it at his chest. Dylan smiled, making Rebecca wonder if maybe he enjoyed this kind of pain. Because truly, with Dylan one never could tell.
"Hold on." Just as she was about to pull the trigger, Dylan raised both hands in front of him asking her to stop. "Let me take my shirt off first." He did. Jacket, tie, handgun holster, shirt, and undershirt came off. He made them into a ball and threw them to one corner of the room. "I hate shopping for new clothes," he said, "call me practical. All right, you can shoot me now."
After taking a long look at his naked torso, she asked, “Anywhere?”
“Anywhere.”
Without over thinking it, Rebecca pulled the trigger. The ringing in her ears didn't bother as much, yet it was always present. The bullet had entered right under his ribcage and out the other side. A clean shot. Dylan fell on his knees, holding the bleeding skin with one hand.
“Did it hurt?” No matter how many times she'd seen Dylan heal, she felt guilty about hurting him now.
“It did.” He groaned as he spoke, standing up effortlessly after a few seconds.
Now it was her turn. The wound closed on Dylan’s abdomen after the bleeding stopped. For a moment he looked at his own hand dripping with the red liquid, and to the red still on his skin, trying to decide what to do with the mess. Choosing to ignore it, he took his gun back from Rebecca, who was reluctant to hand it over, knowing it was her turn.
“I don’t want you to shoot me,” she blurted out. “It looks so painful.”
She could see sympathy in his eyes, but not enough. “If you can keep your face from changing, I’ll only have to shoot you once.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then, we’ll practice until you do.” Dylan sighed. “I told you, nobody should know what you are, not even if you get shot.”
“Fine,” she scowled, giving a few steps back. There was nothing else she could say or do to delay the inevitable. “Are you getting dressed first?”
He smiled, “That would be stalling.”
"I’m not-"
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Could anyone ever be ready for that? “Where are you going to shoot me?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered, “how about your leg?”
“Which one?”
“The right one,” he pointed to it with his gun. “You know, in the field, you won’t get to ask where.”
“We’re not in the field.”
She saw him agree with her, “All right, ready?”
“No,” she took in a big gulp of air. “I can’t do this.”
Dylan reloaded the gun and Rebecca closed her eyes as she waited for the unendurable pain. Right before he pulled the trigger, she heard him say, “Just relax, you will transform the first time.”
“What?” Her eyes had opened with the question but the loud shot muffled the word.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t have time to scream. The clean shot entered her leg on one side and came out on the other. It didn’t touch the bone. Yet the pain burned and Rebecca’s scream had come a few seconds later. Her fangs slid down automatically right before she dropped to the floor. Once she got over the pain she cursed to herself when she felt the long teeth with her tongue. That meant she had to do it again.
The wound took a few seconds to heal, yet Rebecca remained motionless where she was much longer than that. Soon, her blood-stained hands were holding a healthy leg. “You should be healed by now,” she heard Dylan say. At that moment, she willed her fangs to retract. “Becca?”
From the floor, her little voice said, “I’m in shock.”
Dylan chuckled, not meaning to make fun. “Do you need help getting up?”
“No.” Even when all the pain had miraculously vanished, she could still remember how it had felt. It was better to remain where she was than to stand up and go through with it all over again. and that was enough to disable her. “That was really, really, really painful.”
“Of course it was, you were shot. With a bullet.”
She didn’t think he needed to explain the obvious. “No, I mean… really painful.”
Rebecca wasn’t expecting nice words from her future partner and she didn’t get them, “Ready to try again?”
“I hate you,” she mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
She was sure he had heard her, “Nothing.”
“Come on, Becca,” he prompted her. “Stand up, we have two days to do this.”
“You know,” she said as she stood up, “most relationships may be based on love or fear or lies, but us? We work on shooting each other.”
“This is just part of your training,” Dylan told her, ignoring her sarcasm.
“Whatever, Dylan. Let’s get this over with as fast as we can. I’m ready to do it again.”
And he shot again. This time, she didn’t have much time to do anything. Raising his gun, Dylan pointed higher to shoot her shoulder. The fangs were out almost instantly one more time.
“This is… impossible,” Rebecca gasped.
“It’s not impossible.”
“That’s easy for you to say, but I’m not a hundred years old.”
“Neither am I,” Dylan reassured her. “Look, you’ll eventually get that the pain ends in a matter of seconds and then your body feels like new. Once you get that, you won’t pay that much attention to how much it hurts and then you’ll start thinking about what your next move will be; you will gain control over your body.”
“That’s easy to say, but-”
“Worst-case scenario: keep your mouth and eyes closed while you regain control.”
“Well, if it’s that easy, then why do I have to-?”
“Because most times, you won’t have time to close your eyes and let it pass. Most times, a few seconds may mean life or death in a battle.”
Death. Was that something she wanted? To be in a battle where she could die? Yet, he was right, and she was so close to getting what she wanted. In two days she would t
ake the test that would open a whole new world for her. All that stood in her way now, was taking a little pain.
“Fine, let’s keep practicing,” she finally said.
“We’ll try two more times and then come back after lunch. It will give you time to process. We can take all the breaks you need as long as you do it before tomorrow night.”
Smearing the blood on her hands all over her shirt, Rebecca stood up tall and nodded in agreement, “Okay, I’m ready, you can shoot me again.”
And, of course, he did.
CHAPTER SIX
The Test
SPRING, 2000
Rebecca regretted the drive to the abandoned military base wasn’t long; the truth was she hoped they’d never get there. At first, it had all been very exciting; she had trained for months for this, discovering abilities she didn’t know she had. That part had been amazing. Exploring her vampire strengths had been a fun ride and if she passed this test, then she could finally join Dylan in the field hunting for werewolves. How that had become her goal was still a mystery. Yet, it was still her goal and she knew Dylan would help her along the way.
She would also become an FBI agent, which was, in itself, an incredible feat.
Although, as they drove farther away from the agency, Rebecca doubted herself. If she was honest, no one could be as good as a real-life Federal agent after only a few months of training. No one. And as much as Dylan and Jonathan had prepared her for the test, it wouldn’t be until she was there when she'd find out if she had what it took to go to the next level.
Practicing in the comfort of the agency had to differ from real life, and as she turned to look at Dylan drive in silence, she felt anxious about what was to come. A few months ago she'd been teaching five-year-olds to plie and now she would face trained soldiers.
It had all happened too fast.
It had all come too easy.
“At least it’s cloudy today,” Dylan observed, starting a conversation. It was unlike him, but even he had changed in her time as a vampire. He was becoming less self-absorbed, letting a plethora of human emotions affect him. She knew others could see a change in him, too, and she wondered how he felt about the imperfections he was letting in.
“It’s cloudy,” Rebecca repeated the fact. The direct sun rays stung her eyes and skin, which meant having clouds covering its brightness was a gift on this day. She still wished she could take a pair of dark shades with her to the test. Too bad they would never allow it.
“It will be a cold night tonight,” added Dylan.
Rebecca nodded, remembering the warmth of the day before. Turning to look at her green camouflage jacket and pants, she wondered if being cold was a handicap she should have considered when she trained. Perhaps she should have spent the night outdoors the week before or perhaps… it was too late for any of that now.
As a vampire, she had a natural lower body temperature. The cold didn't bother her as much as a regular human would, but she felt it either way.
“It looks warm enough now,” she told him, turning to look out the window.
Dylan reminded her, “Don’t build a fire.”
“I know, I know,” she said under her breath.
Dylan scoffed at her stubbornness; Rebecca wasn’t as naïve as she once was. She wondered how much Dylan had felt her change in the past months. She wondered if she was still what he wanted, what he needed. Regardless, she wanted to be there for her own benefit, not his.
After another long silence, she asked, “Are you worried? I mean, do you think I may not pass this examination?”
Dylan didn’t answer immediately, making Rebecca wonder if he had paid attention to her question.
“No.” The word had come without other explanation. Rebecca was used to it by now. Dylan was a man of a few words when he wanted to be. He still reassured her.
“I feel ready,” she nodded.
“Don’t doubt yourself,” said Dylan. His eyes moved from the road to face her, “You'll be all right.” It was so strange to see him smile like he was doing now. When he turned back to the road, he added, “That’s our exit. We're almost there.”
“Great.”
Dylan took the exit. A few miles into the road Rebecca spotted a building.
“All you need to do is avoid being captured by trained soldiers for twenty-four hours. How hard can it be?”
Rebecca chuckled nervously. How hard could it be? It sounded pretty much impossible.
Dylan followed the narrow paved road all the way to the main building. When they got to a clearing, Rebecca saw civilization had invaded the middle of the forest. Unlike the agency's building, which looked decrepit, this building was modern and well taken cared off. There was a parking lot in front of it, with the white lines marking each parking space clearly. The architecture looked to be from the seventies, but that didn't mean the building looked old. It was refreshing to have ended up in a place like this one instead of a worn-out training field.
Parked next to the handicapped spot, was a green jeep and a military truck. Rebecca knew that meant they were not alone and wondered how long the soldiers had been there preparing for her arrival. She was absorbing it all as Dylan took a spot on the paved lot.
She opened the door to let in the morning breeze and the scents and sounds that came with a place surrounded by flora and fauna. It was the scent of wet soil, the sound of rustling leaves, and the cool, clean air that made her relax for a moment. That was before she realized what was behind the building. A tall wall seemed to frame a part of the forest. Rebecca saw spikes at the top of the wall and a series of floodlights ready to illuminate the arena during the night. She was sure it would be there where she would spend the next twenty-four hours.
She had to stop her small doubts from turning into fears as she followed Dylan into the building.
“Don’t worry,” Dylan said almost like he was aware of her thoughts. Taking her hand, he smiled to let her know she shouldn't be afraid. He had called it a big playground on their drive there. “You'll have fun.”
Fun?
She smiled for his benefit, following him inside the building. Dylan opened the door and the scent of human blood filled her nostrils. She no longer thought much about the scent; it only informed her there was a human close. More than a radar than a craving.
The inside of the building was a lot like the agency’s building. It had a long corridor that ended in another door. Rebecca knew they would use the exit in front of them soon when they guided her to the field where her final examination would take place.
Dylan entered a room with an open door and Rebecca followed. They sat down on a pair of chairs next to a small, empty desk. The décor of the room gave more evidence on the building's age. While Dylan took out his mobile device to check his messages, Rebecca studied the many framed pictures on the walls around them. Groups of soldiers had posed in front of this building, it seemed. The pictures had a code name for each group, along with the year they had been taken. As far as she could tell, the oldest picture had been taken in 1996, only four years before.
In the background, she heard a door open. The scent of human blood grew stronger until they could tell someone was just outside the room where they waited. Dylan turned off his device, standing up just as a man appeared framed under the door. Rebecca stood up, too.
“Major,” Dylan greeted him with one word. The man wore his military uniform. Rebecca did not understand how ranks in the military worked, but made a mental note to learn more. Still, she was sure being a Major meant this man was a high-ranking official.
The Major smelled of shampoo and aftershave, looking groomed in his military uniform. Physically, he looked twice as old as they were. However, Rebecca could tell he kept in shape and could be older than he seemed. He had a narrow waist behind his belt, and under his sleeves, the Major’s arms were ripped. His neck was so thick he looked like he was having trouble breathing under the tight shirt collar. With a quick nod, the man walked around them and he
aded for the chair behind the desk.
Placing both hands on the table, the man exhaled before saying, “Well, here we are, Torrence. Again.”
Rebecca could feel the tension between them, wondering if the military man knew he was dealing with creatures that were more than human. It made her wonder how many men and women knew about the existence of vampires. "Last I saw you, you stole one of my soldiers from me." The Major revealed, "We looked around the same age back then, and now… now I look like your father." The man chuckled quietly.
“I want to personally thank you for doing this, sir,” Dylan said.
“Don’t mention it,” the Major said in his attempt to relax, although his vital signs were giving them a clear understanding of how anxious he was. “Your agency has done plenty for us in the past. I’m glad to return the favor and be of some service.”
The old man was doing his best to make them feel at ease, but it wasn’t easy to fool guests who could hear and smell more than the average Joe. Rebecca wondered if this is how everyone else would react when they found out she was a vampire.
“Ms. Sawyer is ready whenever your men are ready, sir,” Dylan spoke for her.
Rebeca nodded her head in agreement. The Major had been avoiding her before, looking only at Dylan, but now he seemed to be very interested in her.
Finally, the old man let out a sigh. “It’s easy to forget appearances can be deceiving when it comes to your kind,” he told her. Rebecca turned to Dylan, but he did not react to the declaration. The Major spoke again, “How long have you trained, Ms. Sawyer?”
Ready to answer, Rebecca said, “Around six months, sir.”
Raising an eyebrow in disapproval, he asked: “Really? And you understand what will happen here today?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. The Major seemed to be expecting more of an answer and so she gave him what she thought he wanted, “The camp should be filled with traps for me. Your men will try to capture me by all means necessary.”
“Correct.” He sounded satisfied. “No funny business, please,” warned the man. “My men are completely oblivious as to what you are, after all. They have already been debriefed. They know you are a woman of twenty-eight years of age. Five feet seven with one hundred twenty pounds. That is all.”
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