Jack grinned. “Yeah? That why the vampire struck at me first instead of you? He knew who the real threat was.”
They reached the dean’s office, where Marissa sat on a wooden bench. She looked up and smiled.
“You okay?” Claire asked.
Marissa nodded, but Claire knew she was scared again. Getting called to the dean’s office the day after attacking vampires wasn’t exactly great news.
“All right,” Claire said. “Let’s see what she wants.” She reached forward and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” the dean called.
Claire twisted the doorknob as Marissa and Jack took their places. Claire walked in first with the other two following behind her.
Dean Pritcham sat behind a wooden desk. A window occupied the wall behind her and to the desk’s left. Remington and Lance occupied the leather couch against the wall to the right of the door.
“Thank you for coming.” Pritcham stood and gestured at the three chairs in front of her desk. “Please sit down.”
Claire gave a quick glance to the FBI agents and then took the middle chair. Jack went to her left and Marissa to her right.
“How’s the arm feeling?” Remington asked.
Jack did a half-turn in his chair. “If you’d been a bit quicker with that crossbow, we wouldn’t need to ask that question, now would we?” He turned back around and looked at Pritcham.
He might be a Jack-ass, but he’s got some balls on him, Claire thought. She’d stood up to Byron, but she hadn’t mouthed off to a FBI agent yet. Claire stifled the smile wanting to bloom on her face. Probably wasn’t the best time.
“You three did a remarkable job last night,” Pritcham said as she sat down again. “To be honest, it was better than anyone thought was possible.”
Claire’s face grew quizzical. “Thanks?” She didn’t know how to respond to something like that.
“No, it’s we who need to thank you,” Pritcham offered. “The whole country, really. Last night, you allowed us to kill one of the first creatures summoned through the Veil. Before that, we hadn’t been able to do it. It was truly an amazing feat.”
Claire glanced at Marissa. She was only staring at her lap, probably wishing they could get the hell out of there and back to class.
“Did you just call us in here to thank us?” Jack asked. “Because if so, I’ve got stuff to do. Putting some salve on this wound. Probably calling some of my girlfriends. Probably need to study for the next time you throw us in front of monsters without being prepared. Probably a lot of stuff.”
The dean raised one eyebrow skeptically. She gazed at Jack for a few seconds, then turned her attention to the FBI agents.
Claire wanted to turn around and see what expressions they had on their faces, but she kept her eyes forward.
Finally, Pritcham looked at Jack again. “Mr. Teams, I appreciate your anger. I do. However, I have a question. What did you think you were getting into when you signed up here? Did you think you’d get some grades and then be let out into the world to find a job selling insurance? Did you think this was going to be like one of those other schools you were accepted into? Columbia or Yale? Remember, your letter said a guaranteed government job. It didn’t specify what kind.”
Claire’s eyes grew wide, and she turned to Jack. “Yale?” She thought Marissa might have been accepted to a school like that, but Jack? Why would anyone risk their life here if they could have gone to an Ivy League school?
Jack ignored her question and kept his eyes on Pritcham. “No, I didn’t think it would be like those schools. I also didn’t think I’d show up here and get my arm nearly chopped off in the first few months.”
Pritcham leaned back in her chair, putting her elbows on the arms and touching her fingertips together. She studied Jack for a few long moments. “That’s fair, I suppose. We didn’t think we would need to move this fast, either. We thought we had more time, and none of us wanted to put you in harm’s way this quickly. However, as you saw, we made sure there was backup the entire time. They weren’t simply letting you go in by yourself, despite what you originally thought.” She gestured with her left hand toward the agents. “But as to your first question, no. We didn’t call you here just to thank you. We called you here to discuss how the rest of this semester is going to go.”
“How’s that?” Claire asked.
It wasn’t Dean Pritcham that spoke, but Remington from behind her. “The remainder of this semester isn’t going to be about learning, but about attacking.”
The room grew quiet for a few seconds.
Claire couldn’t take it anymore. She turned around and looked at Remington. “You going to expand on that?”
Remington smiled, although Lance remained stoic. “I thought I might. There are a few things still up in the air, but it’s time we level with you about what we do know.”
“That would be nice.” Claire’s fingers were starting to grip the chair’s arms. Maybe she would get a chance to go off on a FBI agent today.
Remington leaned forward. “I imagine your professors know more about the Veil and the universe beyond than the two of us. What they don’t know, and what nobody knows besides the FBI yet, is why it’s happening. Or at least, one possible reason that it’s happening. We know why vampires are coming out right now in Boston.”
Marissa turned around, too, and she was gripping the chair just like Claire, only for different reasons.
Claire relaxed her left hand and reached over, touching Marissa’s without looking at her. It’s okay, she thought. We’re all in this together.
“We’re calling it a cult,” Remington continued. He tried to conceal the quick glance he gave Claire’s hand, but she saw the approval in his eyes. He liked the bond they were forming. “It’s decentralized from what we can tell, meaning that there are multiple cells acting semi-independently.”
“Gonna need you to expand some,” Claire instructed. This was what Frank had told her about. The people pulling the Mythers over.
Marissa spoke before Remington could respond to Claire’s demand, her voice a whisper. “The cells have to be using some organizational structure. If you think about terrorist cells, that’s probably the best way to describe groups like these. White supremacist groups are often decentralized, meaning that there isn’t one person who controls everything, yet they’re all working toward the same evil purpose. It allows them to do things on their own and makes it harder for government agencies to track. There is probably some loose organization, and someone at the head of it all, but it’s much harder to get to them because they aren’t giving people direct orders.”
The room was quiet for a moment, then Lance said in his normal stoic fashion, “Told you.”
Claire shook her head, smiling. She didn’t have to ask what that meant. Marissa was a fucking genius.
“That’s just about the whole of it,” Remington agreed. He was still leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “There’s a sect of this cult in Boston, and what they’re doing is calling over vampires. Agent Lance and I are focused on two things right now, One is recruitment, and the other is the cult in our midst.”
“We think,” Lance confided, “That they’re looking for Dracula. We think they’re trying to pull him over.”
Jack put his left hand over his stomach and slumped down in his chair, laughing. “No way. No fucking way. You can’t expect us to believe this.” He laughed some more, unable to keep talking. Finally, he pulled himself together. “Look, they’re bringing vampires over, I can’t deny that. I got the wounds on my arms to prove it. But if you’re sitting here asking me to believe that they’re going to bring over a character from an old book, I’m not going to do it.”
“Why not?” Pritcham asked from her chair. “Where do you think these things came from? Books. Tales. Nothing else.”
Jack stopped laughing, his eyes growing narrow. “Why do they want Dracula?”
Remington sighed. “That’s where our intelligence d
ries up. We’re not entirely sure what these different cults want yet. We’re working on finding out how they came into being, and how they learned about the Veil or this other universe.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re sure of much,” Jack interjected.
Claire gave the leg of his chair a soft kick. “Hush. Let them finish. None of us came here to learn debate skills, did we?”
Jack rolled his eyes but quieted down.
Remington leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “However they’re pulling creatures, they’re getting better at it. That’s why they’re able to only pull vampires right now and there’s such a glut of them. They’re looking for the head one, though. There’s going to be trouble if they find him.”
“Why?” Claire asked.
It was Marissa who gave the answer. “He’s the oldest, meaning more people have believed in him. He’ll be the most powerful. That one we saw last night was probably young and not that strong. If they bring Bram Stoker’s Dracula over, the real terror will start.” She continued staring down at her lap, and she didn’t let go of Claire’s hand.
“So basically, we don’t know how this cult is doing it, or why, but we think we know what they’re trying to bring through the Veil?” Claire asked.
“That’s right.” Remington nodded. “It’s up to my organization to figure out the hows and whys. It’s up to you and your classmates to stop them from bringing these creatures across.”
“Our classmates,” Jack interjected. “You seem to be forgetting about them in this whole mess. I don’t see any of them picking up stakes and going out into the night to fight the undead.”
“He got accepted to Yale, but he’s not that smart.” Remington smirked as looked past the students to Pritcham. He shrugged then found Claire’s eyes. “If we send you all out into the field right now, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“The entire class gets killed,” Claire answered.
“That’s right.” Remington tapped his knee with his forefinger. “I’m going to be honest with you three, because lying won’t get us anywhere. We can’t afford to have the entire first class die. We needed to see if you three could perform in the field, and you can. If we’d told you we were there to jump in and help, we wouldn’t have found out what you were capable of. We had to be certain. Right now, you’re our only weapon against what’s coming. The other members of your class are going to continue with the regular curriculum. We’re nearly halfway done with the semester. You three are going to be trained more as, well, assassins. At least until we deal with this vampire threat. Then you can join your classmates again.”
A wide grin spread across Jack’s face. “Maybe I was smart enough to get into Yale and maybe I wasn’t, but one thing is for sure. You two couldn’t sell a life raft to a drowning man. All you had to tell me was you were training me to kill stuff and we could have avoided the whole kerfuffle.”
Marissa’s face grew even paler. “I...” She tried to speak, but words failed her.
Claire turned, ignoring the rest of the room. “Hey, you’re with us now. You’re part of this team, this unit. We’re not the same without you, that I know.”
Jack leaned forward so that he could see Marissa too. “Don’t you worry. I’ll protect you.” His grin was as wide as ever.
“See?” Claire told her. “If you don’t stick around, we’re not going to be able to embarrass Jack-ass over here.”
Marissa actually smiled.
“Claire, hold on a second, would you?”
Claire had her hand on the door and was about to leave the room. She paused as Jack and Marissa turned around to look at her.
Claire shrugged. I don’t know, she mouthed.
“I hope they treat you better than me,” Jack remarked, raising his wounded arm and pointing to it.
Marissa was clearly ready to be done with the entire conversation. “See you in the dorm.”
The two left, and Claire went back inside the office. She looked at Remington, who’d been the one to speak. “Yeah?”
“Close the door.” He nodded to it.
She did, shutting it silently but not moving away from it.
“We need you to talk to Frank.” Remington leaned back in his chair. “We know he’s here in Boston.”
Claire raised one eyebrow. She didn’t like this. These people were here to kill the Mythers, and she didn’t know what they were going to do about Frank over the long haul. “What makes you think he’s here?”
“Hey,” Lance raised his hands with the palms facing outward. “We’ve shot straight with you. There’s no need to do any less with us.”
Maybe that’s fair, Claire thought. But I’m still not giving Frank up.
“What about him?” she asked.
“You don’t have to bring him to us or anything like that,” Remington assured her. “We know and respect your feelings toward the little green creature. We do want you to talk to him, though.”
Claire crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve got some questions first, things you should have answered on day one. How can you see Frank? How can any of you see him?”
Remington nodded at Pritcham. “She can see all Mythers. She’s like you and Jack and Marissa.”
Claire glanced her way, understanding that much. She turned back to the agents. “And you two? You told me back at the bowling alley you could see him somewhat clearly? How did you know he was even in there?”
“You’ve had a class on this, correct?” Lance asked.
Claire nodded. “It’s still confusing, and I want to know if you two have any more information.”
Remington smiled and leaned back. “Always probing for more. That’s fine. Lance and I here are changing. It’s slow, but it’s happening. We first heard about Frank and you chasing him down because another teenager saw him at the park that day. The word traveled upward, and so we came down to see about it. We learned you’d chased him down, and then we began recording you. You know about recordings, right?”
Claire nodded. “Everyone can see Mythers if it’s on a video.”
“That’s right.” Remington moved his hand slightly forward in the air. “So, we saw Frank on the recordings. When we walked into the bowling alley that day, we didn’t see him like you did, but he looked slightly green to us. Because we’d been seeing him on camera. It takes time for the brain to bend and change, but Lance and I both believe, and so our brains are slowly allowing us to see them. Now, we see Frank just as clearly as you do.”
Claire’s eyebrows were drawn together, but she didn’t have any argument against what they were saying. “Fine. What else did you want to talk about?”
Remington continued. “Wherever these cults pop up, there’s a lot of Veil activity in the area. More creatures coming across, and not all of them are bad or evil. We think there’s a chance your green friend might be in contact with some of them, and if so, we want to know what he’s hearing. That’s all.” Remington shrugged as if to say, no games.
“I don’t really know how to get in touch with Frank,” Claire told them, ignoring the fact that they knew the leprechaun was in Boston. “He usually gets in touch with me.”
“That’s fine.” Remington nodded. “But if he does get in touch with you, let him know what we’re thinking. If he’s your friend, and on your side, he may be able to help. Tell him it’s imperative we find these cult members, okay?”
“You guys don’t understand leprechauns that well, do you?” Claire’s right eyebrow raised, as she realized how foolish they sounded.
“They’re not usually at Thanksgiving dinner, no,” Lance responded.
“Well, these guys don’t do things for free. They’re more or less misers.” Claire uncrossed her arms. “If he comes around, I’ll talk to him, but he’s going to want something in return.”
“Like what?”
Claire smiled. “Depends on how much information he gives you, but I can almost guarantee it’s going to have something to
do with beer and bowling.”
Lance looked at Remington. “The one insider we may have is a damn derelict.”
Remington shrugged and turned his attention to Claire again. “Just tell him we’re the FBI. We can get him whatever he wants, so long as we deem the information relevant, informative, and impactful.”
Claire barely held her grin. “Relevant, informative, and impactful, huh? That’s what you want me to tell the little green leprechaun who drinks more than any human on Earth?”
Lance raised a finger. “You tell the little green goblin—”
“Leprechaun,” Claire corrected, raising her own finger into the air to mock Lance.
Remington stared at her as if he wanted to choke her, which only made Claire’s grin grow. “Just tell him what we said and see if you can get us some freakin’ help. Between you and Teams, I’m going to have an aneurysm.”
Claire opened the door to her right and turned to Dean Pritcham. “Anything else?”
The dean nodded toward the hallway. “No. Dr. Byron knows the changes we’re putting into place. You three go see him.”
Claire left the group, wondering exactly what Frank would say when he finally showed up and got a load of this.
Claire wandered quietly into the lobby. The room was dark and empty. Her feet padded softly on the hardwood floors. She wasn’t completely sure where she was going, only that she couldn’t sleep.
She passed by shadow-draped couches, heading to the door on the other side of the room. There was a nice garden outside, and she thought she might go sit in it for a while until she got tired.
“Running away?”
Claire whipped around to the sound of the voice.
“Jack! You almost gave me a heart attack!” she whispered harshly. She could see Jack now, and had only missed him because she’d been so sure this place was empty. He was lying on one of the couches, staring up at the ceiling.
Claire’s heart rate started to fall, and she felt herself calming some. “What are you doing down here?”
“Can’t sleep,” Jack answered without turning over to look at her. “This is some pretty heavy stuff. Heavier than I thought when I signed up.”
First Semester Page 11