Seeing Rebecca could not think on what to say, William began, “Yes, agent Sawyer?”
Of course, he remembered her name; it shouldn’t have surprised her. Again, the question of his age came to mind. The one question she really wanted to be answered. The first question she wanted to be answered.
“How old are you?” she blurted out simply.
There was a slight frown on the young man’s face and a hesitation before saying, “Seventeen.”
It was expected, but not what she had wanted to hear. “Physically, yes, but…”
“How old have I been alive?” Rebecca nodded innocently, although she wasn’t so innocent anymore. Not after she had fought and punched and kicked a werewolf until it lost consciousness. No, she was just as dangerous a monster as any of them. “I was seventeen years old when I was turned in the year 1930,” the werewolf said.
“That’s…”
“Not a hundred years old, yet, I know,” said the boy, “Not as old as the others you call friends. I’m getting there, though. I, for one, expect to get to ninety in a few years. Do you think I’ll be able to?”
“I don’t know.” She knew what he meant. She knew he had expected things to go much different than how they were turning out. If what he revealed was true, he was really an eighty-seven-year-old man hiding behind a seventeen-year-old body. “I know you’re not dead, yet,” Rebecca said as a way to stay positive.
“You’re right,” he considered. After a moment of silence, he asked the same question of her, “What is your age?” Rebecca tensed, William noticed, “I only ask because, when talking about vampires and werewolves, appearances can be deceiving. Besides, you asked for my age and that gives me the right to ask yours.”
She felt small, inexperienced; nevertheless, she answered the question. “I’m the same age I was when I was turned. Twenty-seven. Soon, twenty-eight.”
Looking genuinely surprised, the werewolf exclaimed, “Ah, I see.”
Suddenly, they both stopped. They both heard it; their heads jerked in the direction of the sound in unison. Steps. Someone coming, a door had opened and closed. A vampire, by its scent, not human – although she knew there were humans in the building; she knew it just as William surely knew it.
Rebecca had no idea what Dylan would say if she found her talking to his enemy; she hadn’t really thought it through. Or she had and she hadn’t seen any harm in it. She was curious and her curiosity had to be filled.
The door finally opened, Rebecca hid behind it automatically leaving the werewolf in plain view of the visitor. Once the door had opened she realized the scent didn’t belong to her partner and lover. It didn’t even belong to the director of the agency. It was an unfamiliar scent. The mix of shampoo, detergent and shaving cream created a singular signature, one she did not recognize at all.
The man was taller than Dylan and perhaps a little physically older than he was, but not by much. From the back, she could see his light, auburn hair, which curled slightly at the ends and was just long enough to need a haircut. His right fist held a black, nondescript briefcase. His brown pants and jacket looked a little peculiar and relaxed for an average agent of the North American Vampire Secret Agency, N.A.V.S.A.
From the chair, William looked at him suspiciously before saying. “Dr. Helm?”
“Uhm, yes, that’s correct,” the vampire replied in a strong British accent sounding perplexed. Leaving the werewolf with a frown, he immediately turned around after having sensed Rebecca in the room, as well. Rebecca registered the newcomer immediately; with a square jaw, light blue eyes, a narrow nose, and thin lips she noted that the combination of features made him look more awkward than handsome. It was like his proportions were somehow wrong, but only if you really thought about it.
“Hullo,” he moved his briefcase to his other hand to be able to extend his right to greet her, “Grant Helm,” he introduced himself, “and you are?”
“Rebecca Sawyer,” she had not hesitated in taking his hand firmly to return the introduction.
“Ah, yes, Dylan,” Grant Helm replied dryly, leaving the context of his remark to the imagination. “I heard.”
With not much more than that, he turned to the werewolf who had been waiting for his attention as patiently as he could while still looking surprised.
“You know who I am,” Dr. Helm addressed him, “but I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”
William began nodding, knowing it would be an honor to let this man - this vampire - know who he was. “My name is William, Dr. Helm. William Woods.”
“Woods?” Rebecca asked from behind them, “That’s your last name?” Both William and Grant turned to look at her appalled by her interruption. “Sorry,” she muttered, giving a step back.
“So, Mr. Woods,” continued Grant after a quick clearing of his throat, “A pleasure, I’m sure.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Helm, believe me.” If William hadn’t been handcuffed, they would have been shaking hands.
Dr. Helm shrugged, dismissing the admiration casually, “No, no. If anything, the pleasure is mine, Mr. Woods. It’s not common to be in a room talking sense with someone like you.”
Rebecca interfered again, this time standing between the werewolf and the seemingly illustrious vampire, “Why?” she asked Grant Helm, “Who did you say you were?”
The face on William’s face could not be described; it was a mix of disbelief and distaste. It was almost as if Rebecca should have been ashamed of herself and her ignorance. She did not know all of the vampires in the agency, after all. Some were stationed outside of the agency’s walls, others she rarely crossed paths with. She had not been a vampire even a full year; and yet, the name of he vampire who had invented synthetic blood wasn’t really alien to her. She should have known.
“This is Dr. Grant Helm, agent Sawyer,” William began, “he created and then patented the synthetic blood you probably consume every day.”
Knowledge finally dawned on her. Why she had never suspected that a vampire had created the synthetic blood was beyond her. It made perfect sense to her now. It was obvious. A vampire could have, after all, seen a different reason to having an alternative to human blood available to consume. She wondered how many lives this man had saved simply by discovering an alternate way for vampires to feed on, something that did not drain human life and yet bring the same benefits.
Slowly, the way Rebecca looked at Grant began to resemble the way William’s admiration had looked at first.
Grant, on the other hand, took a quick glance at her, fought the urge to roll his eyes, and turned back to the subject that truly interested him.
“I have never talked to a werewolf before,” he said with a gentleman’s smile.
“Well, I guess there’s always a first time for everything,” William said.
“True,” the vampire agreed, “I know we’re about to have this meeting of the minds, once Lucius is done taking care of his business, but I couldn’t help myself. To be honest, I just had to come meet you. I hope you don’t mind.”
The British are always so polite, Rebecca thought.
“I didn’t know you worked for this agency, it would’ve made things easier, perhaps.” William considered, “Although now I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I’m not an agent,” Grant was quick to clarify, “Or at least I’m not one now. With luck I won’t be one again; at least if I can help it.”
“Then you’re here because…” prompted the werewolf.
“I’m here because you are the most extraordinary thing that has happened in a long time,” Grant said causing William’s admiration to changed to disappointment. “It is truly a remarkable opportunity to study your kind and I just had to-“
“I am not a guinea pig,” William cut him off abruptly. Then, “With all due respect, Dr. Helm, I am here to look for asylum, not to be trapped in some lab and be experimented on.”
It was Dr. Helm’s turn to be disappointed, “But, you do
n’t understand,” he implored, “the opportunity, the chance to know more about you, your physiology, your-“
“Will not come from me,” William stated. “I’d rather go back to them than be studied. I’d rather live surrounded by men who can’t control their emotions and run around in a perpetual state of chaos than be here for you to cut me open over and over again. I will make that abundantly clear and as many times as necessary. If anything, I am here to find kindred spirits, others like me with whom to grow old sharing wisdom and life and immortality. Do you understand me?”
Together with Grant Helm, Rebecca understood more about the true intentions of this young looking werewolf.
After what felt like an endless silence, Grant said, “Forgive me if I offended you, William.”
“No offense taken,” the werewolf shifted in his seat, his hands still cuffed behind his back. He was being treated like a criminal when all he wanted was to be accepted.
“Surely you know your situation is peculiar, in lack of a better word,” said Grant.
“I know.”
“You are what you are and the history between us has never been pleasant.”
“Yes, I know,” Will agreed again. “It still is something worth trying.”
“What if you fail?” It was Rebecca who asked the question. Both men, vampire and werewolf, turned to look at her again as if she had no right to even be present while their conversation took place. “I mean,” she shrugged, “I can tell you Dylan won’t just be accepting of you. To be honest I also have my doubts. There’s no telling how the others feel. I’m sure you can understand it won’t be easy. Perhaps even impossible.”
“She’s right,” Grant nodded, “It is either a very brave thing you did or extremely foolish.”
Taking a deep breath, the werewolf said, “Well, I can only hope I’m not being a fool.”
“What is it that you need… sir?” started Dylan through gritted teeth. After having dragged him to the room opposite the large conference room in the safe house, Lucius had done nothing but stand up blocking the door, staring down at him, with his index finger tapping his chin. The director of the vampire agency did not reply and Dylan could only imagine he had done something so extremely wrong that Lucius could not think of the right words to reprimand him in the extent he needed to be reprimanded. “Look, I have the werewolf. I brought him just like you asked.” He paused to see if the director would at least shift his initial position. “I did not harm anyone, you can ask Lewis; he was there.” The director stare did not end. “He couldn’t have filed another report. I swear, sir. I’ve been careful, more responsible. More human, you should know this. I sleep and I eat and I-”
Dylan rarely lost his patience with anyone. Since bringing Rebecca over to the agency she had been personally responsible for a great change in his attitude toward life. It was with Rebecca that he was learning how to be human again, how to care, how to belong and have purpose. It was with Rebecca that he was experiencing love, frustration, joy, hate. She was opening him up to the range of human emotions he had abandoned and had been so detached from before. It had been what Lucius had wanted. He had followed the order; he had found someone to guide him, and in his point of view, he had done nothing to prove otherwise.
It took time, but the director finally put his hands down as he got ready to speak, “Tell me about Rebecca.”
The request confused him. Dylan frowned as he tried to understand where that was coming from. The most important subject they needed to be discussing was the werewolf waiting in a room two doors from them, not his new partner.
“I don’t understand,” he said in his attempt to learn more. “What does she have to do with the werewolf?”
“Is there nothing you can tell me about her and her behavior today?”
“Uhm,” started Dylan, “Sure, she, uhm, performed well today on the field. She didn’t get killed.”
Lucius griped, a knowing smile on his lips. “She is not just an agent, Dylan,” he stated.
“I know,” Dylan said, taken aback. “She’s more than that, I know.”
Nodding pensively, the oldest vampire Dylan knew began anew, “We both know why you chose her.” It was Dylan’s turn to remain quiet. “And hopefully you know, as well as I, that she is not really the woman you knew all those years ago.”
It wasn’t the first time he suggested that. “I know she isn’t,” he began, “I know she is a completely different person.”
The director kept nodding, “Then you understand she may or may not turn out to be a great werewolf hunter like… she was,” he was about to say her name and stopped.
“Although she does have the gift, sir. She has it, I’ve seen it,” Dylan pointed out.
It took some time for Lucius to process the information, “The reason we are here, Dylan, is because I have received a call from agent Lewis a few minutes ago and,” Dylan prepared for the worst, “and I must say I am concerned.”
Dylan could not imagine why there should be anything to be worried about. It had been Rebecca’s first mission, her first encounter with a real life-threatening werewolf. If anything, she had proven she was an asset. For her first experience, she had performed beautifully.
“Agent Lewis tells me Rebecca has changed,” the director continued, “have you noticed anything different?”
He had, yet it was something he tried not to think much about. He decided her silence and attitude after the fight at Persephone Hall was just a natural consequence after having faced monsters, nothing time and experience wouldn’t help overcome.
“Charles didn’t see her fight, I did,” Dylan added in her defense.
“Right, the fighting,” Lucius agreed, “Yes, I know she is a natural soldier, whether I foresaw it at first or not. I am aware, more than anyone, appearances can be deceiving. It is no secret she has surpassed all of my expectations when it comes to being a member of this agency.”
“Then why are you worried, I-?“
The director did not let him finish, “I worry she is holding back, Dylan,” he finally explained. “I see a woman who has been weak and suppressed her entire life and is suddenly given great power.”
“Rebecca would never-“
“She will come to a threshold, a fork in her path. One where she will decide she can do more than she ever thought possible and then,” he paused for effect, “she will decide which side she will fight for, and believe me, any disagreements you now have with her will only help separate her more from us and our purpose.”
What he heard made no sense, Dylan quickly denied his boss’ fears, “She loves me, sir,” he said, “She won’t do anything to hurt me. Besides, she chose this. I gave her a choice and she chose this.”
“Did she?”
“All the time I was clear about who I was and what she was getting herself into. She has always known.”
“Yet she still doesn’t know the real reason it had to be her, does she? Why you wanted her? She has no recollection of your past together.”
Dylan knew where the director was heading. Dismissing any ideas to help the old vampire reach any conclusions, he said, “She has proven to be capable of handling everything that has been put in her path. Why would it be important she knows why I chose her now that she knows I could not live without her?”
“You love her, then?” It wasn’t so much a question than stating a fact.
He did not admit to it right away, “I do, I… she is everything I hoped she would be and more. Her opinion matters; I care. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Then tell her the truth,” insisted Lucius, “Tell her, so when the time comes to decide if she will fight with us or against us her path will be clear. Tell her so she never has a reason to doubt us.”
“She won’t. She won’t doubt us.”
“Dylan,” the director took a deep breath, “Lewis noticed she was quiet, but not scared. He did not see regret in her. He did not see fear. He tells me it was like she was trying to accept h
ow much she had enjoyed it, the violence.”
“The same thing happened to me and yet here we are, sir,” he said. He then reconsidered, “Besides, she didn’t kill any of them. She wouldn’t.”
“Perhaps not now,” Lucius agreed, “Nonetheless, she will be forced to do it sooner or later for the sake of her own survival and everything will change. We have to make sure she will remain on the right path.”
“She will.”
The director raised one hand to take Dylan’s shoulder, while patting his cheek just like a father would do to a son with the other. “I only want what’s best for you, Dylan. You know family always comes first and should she choose a different purpose then…”
Family, Dylan had never accepted that sentiment. He did not believe in it, no matter what his connection to the director of the vampire agency was.
“Yes, sir,” he agreed simply. “I will talk to her.”
“Tell her,” insisted the older vampire. “Soon.”
He didn’t want to say it, but it was hard to deny Lucius anything, “I will.”
Seeming satisfied, Lucius let Dylan go and prepared to exit the room back into their new reality, where a werewolf was waiting to be judged as their equal. It had turned out to be an interesting day in more ways than one.
CHAPTER THREE
WILLIAM WOODS ENTERED the room still in handcuffs. He was only dressed in a pair of black pants, the rest of his body exposed. The young man looked completely harmless, but everyone in the room knew that meant nothing at all. For all they knew, he could have been a five-hundred-year-old werewolf with an agenda.
Werewolf Phenomenon: N.A.V.S.A. Series Book Two (The North American Vampire Secret Agency) Page 7