The Source (5 page)

Rick spoke up, “Thank
you Mr. Caulfield.  Dr. Burcham and I look forward to exceeding your
expectations with our project.”

Mr. Caulfield allows
himself a brief smile.  “And I look forward to seeing you do so,” he turns. “Allison.” 
With that one word they both turn and walk out of the suite. 

I hope that I never
get to the point where my name is a command.  I don’t do well with taking
orders anyway, so using my name in such a way would just be an exercise in
ridiculousness.

Rick turns to me,
“Where were we?”

I look at my watch,
“We only have about 40 minutes before the nightly meeting.  We should try to
finish our discussion of vampire vulnerabilities, and it might be helpful to
know their strengths, also.  If we’re going to develop something, we need to
make sure that vampires won’t be naturally resistant to it.”

“Agreed.”  Rick walks
up to the whiteboard and makes a column for strengths under which he writes
“unnatural strength/immunity.”

“Unnatural strength
and immunity?”

He nods, “Keep in
mind what you said earlier.  Vampires can be killed in many of the same ways as
regular humans.  However, there are many things that would kill a human that
would either not affect a vampire or just slightly annoy them.”

“Like what?”

“Common illness, both
minor and severe.  They don’t impact us at all.  It’s as if we’re immune to
them.”

I snort, “There goes
my idea to use viral warfare.” 

“Cute,” he says while
smiling.

“I was just joking.”

He shakes his head,
“I meant the snort.  Cute.”

I look away as my
face turns red for what feels like the millionth time today.  What kind of
person thinks that an obnoxious habit is “cute,” anyway?  Wait.  He’s from
another era.  Maybe everything that he thinks is cute is beyond my contemporary
comprehension.  Oh to live in a time when social faux pas is attractive. 

“What else?” I ask
without looking at him.

“We do have physical
strength that surpasses humans.  We heal quicker.  A bullet would not kill us
unless we were shot in such a way that it did irreparable damage to the heart. 
I’ve actually fallen great distances and got up and walked away.  A human would
have been killed on impact.”

“It’s almost like
vampires are super-human,” I say. “Why wouldn’t everyone want to be one?”

“It’s not exactly glamorous
having to hide your identity out of fear of being staked or burned alive by
political and religious zealots.  Not to mention the fact that the average
human tends to frown upon the idea of drinking blood.”

I shudder again.

“For exactly that
reason.  Most people shudder at the idea.  For vampires, it’s not just a way of
life.  It’s a necessity if we’re going to survive.  I never would have thought
of doing so before the turn, but now I know I can’t live without it.”  He
laughs lazily, “In a way you acquire a taste for it.”

I swallow.  Bile is
rising in the back of my throat and I don’t want to risk barfing all over the
floor.  I’m sure he wouldn’t find
that
cute. 

Change of subject. 
“One last question before we go to the meeting.  You were turned over fifty-two
years ago when you were twenty-five.  That makes you technically seventy-seven,
yet you still look twenty-five.  How is that possible?”

He prowls over to
stand in front of me and looks deeply into my eyes, “It sort of goes with the
unnatural immunity to common illnesses.  We are impervious to aging.” 

He looks over my
face, starting at the top of my hairline and slowly making his way down to my
neck.  I can almost feel his gaze caressing my skin.  My heart starts racing to
the point that it feel like I am slowly suffocating with the thudding weight in
my chest.  Rick steps closer to me, his lab coat gently grazing mine.  He leans
forward, his head down as he continues to gaze at my neck.  Any closer and we
would be cheek-to-cheek.  My mouth slowly parts in anticipation of what would
come next.

In a breathy voice he
says, “And...this...is just a small taste...of...our...form...of empathy.”

It is like someone
turned the lights on and I can feel my legs buckle.  My first reaction is to
grab a hold of his arms to keep from falling.  He looks down at me as I
question him with my eyes. 

A ruse.  I suddenly
feel like I was back in middle school when older boys would act like they liked
me only to crush my fantasies in fits of laughter at the outlandish notion that
they could want to be with me.  Again.  Bastard.

I stand up straight
and step back from him.  I hold up a shaky hand, pointing an incredulous finger
at him, “Don’t
ever
do that to me
again.”

He smiles sadly,
leaning against the island, “I wasn’t serious.  I would never use that against
you.  If I wanted you, I would want you to want me, too.”

Ouch.  “If I wanted
you.”  Maybe he is just talking and didn’t mean that the way it sounded.  Well,
not the way it sounded, but the way I took it.  Score one for me for taking
another step on the maturity ladder.  It sucks to learn that everything isn’t
about me, even when “everything” is detrimental to my sense of self. 

I put my hands in my
coat pockets.  “Is that how you get blood from your victims?”

Rick practically
hisses.  “I have no victims!”

I flinch and step
back some more.

“Vampires must
survive on blood.  That doesn’t mean that it has to be human blood.  And MOST
vampires, unlike the ones that we’re here to stop, do not take blood from a
human without permission.”

I flinch again and
move to the other side of the island.

Rick starts pacing in
front of the whiteboard.  “That’s one thing that humans and these vamp-scum
have in common - a complete lack of understanding of the intimate bond that is
created when you take someone’s blood.  More intimate than sex.  You’re not
just giving a person your body; you’re giving your essence.  That should be
respected and regarded for the gift that it is.  As far as I’m concerned,
coercing a human to drink their blood amounts to rape.”

I look down, busying
myself with memorizing the lines in the marble of the island.  I glance at my
watch while Rick continues to pace back and forth, fuming with every step.  I
decide that it was time to head to the meeting.

“Well, it’s about
time to go, so I think I’m going to go ahead and find the conference room.”  I
totally fail at my attempt to be nonchalant.

Rick stops and looks
at me, his strong hand rubbing against his jaw as if he is considering what to
do with me.  After that tirade I’m pretty certain that he isn’t thinking about
what to do
to
me.  His eyes look
weary as he drops his hands and slowly walks closer to me.

“I’m sorry,” he
says.  “I didn’t mean to flip out like that.  I get rather upset not only by
the way vampires are viewed, but also by the actions of my own kind that
perpetuate those stereotypes.  It makes it harder on those like me,” he runs
his eyes over my face, glancing at my neck, my chest then finally back up to my
face, “harder for those of us who respect where we came from and the unique
bond that we will forever have with humans.”

He steps even closer
to me and lays a gentle hand on my shoulder, “A bond that, given the right
level of respect, can lead to a blissful and peaceful existence that most
cannot fathom.”

I look at him with
new eyes, a little bit shocked.  “You talk like you know this from experience.”

He smiles sadly and
runs his hand down my arm before he slowly walks to the door.  I turn to watch
him, not knowing whether or not I’m supposed to follow. 

With his hand on the
handle, he turns his head, “Unfortunately...I do...”.

All of the
researchers begin to file into the conference room.  Many people are already
seated at small, individual tables.  Many people, including Tucker.  I act like
I don’t see him, but I can tell that he’s watching me.  I make it a point to
ignore him and give all of my attention to Rick, which was only natural since
he is the only other person that I know here.  Not that I was feeling a pull
low in my abdomen after all of the heated exchange between us.  Not at all. 
Yeah, right.  If I keep saying that, maybe even I will believe it. 

The confusing thing
about passion is that it’s two-sided.  It can be the intensity of a carnal
attraction that you have tried so hard to resist and have finally given in to 
- or it can be the height of rage when you are met with someone who is the
representation of everything you abhor.  I don’t know about the first type of
passion, but my mama always told me to watch out for the second one...because
it can lead to the first.  That is, if you don’t lose yourself in the process.

Rick and I stand in
line with the other researchers waiting to speak with Allison.  As we approach
her, she half smiles and looks at her clipboard.  She looks back up at us, “Dr.
Allstedt and Dr. Burcham, the archivist assigned to your group is Sarah
Montgomery.  She is seated at the table in the back left-hand corner.”

Rick and I both
glance back in that general direction.  A woman with dull, light brown hair
sits with her head down, as it appears that she’s reading a book.  Rick nods
his thanks to Allison and we make our way toward the back of the room.  We
unfortunately pass by Tucker’s table and although I continue to force myself
not to look at him, it feels like he is watching us.  I should probably just go
over to him and tell him to piss off, but that would probably disrupt the flow
of the meeting.  Damn professionalism.  Always getting in the way of me being
me.

As we get close to
our assigned table, Rick greets Ms. Montgomery.  “Sarah Montgomery,” he states
with his hand stuck out, “I’m Dr. Rick Allstedt and this is my partner Dr. Emma
Burcham.” 

I tremble at the word
partner.  Although it is technically correct, in other contexts, it can have so
many different meanings.  From law partner to domestic partner.  I am somewhere
in between those meanings and psyching myself out with implausible innuendo. 

Why can I just not
focus on the task at hand, in any given situation, instead of wondering if the closest
male just
might
be
interested in me? 
It’s the curse of always being the law partner and never the domestic partner. 
I’ve never had the pleasure of being asked, “Can we just be friends?” because
that’s all that men seem to want from me.  Even in high school I was the girl
that a guy considered his best friend, but never girlfriend material.  If nice
guys finish last, then nice girls never even get to start the race.  We’re left
on the sidelines to cheer everyone else on, clinging to our dreams that in an
alternate reality, we are smokin‘ hot and irresistible.  Unfortunately, I’m
still trying to live the dream.

Ms. Montgomery stands
up and shakes Rick’s hand, “Please to meet you both.”  She turns to me and
offers her hand. I briefly smile, “Likewise.”

We all take our seats
and Ms. Montgomery closes her book and removes her glasses.  With them on she
looks like a librarian.  With them off, she just looks like a plain woman that
without speaking would go unnoticed.  She shuffles some papers and begins to
explain the process to us.

“I will observe your
work on this project.  I will do this in many different ways, including direct
observation, record analysis and personal interviews.  With the observations
you may or may not know that I’m watching.  The suite is outfitted with
state-of-the-art surveillance equipment.  The exact location of said equipment
and the observation room will remain secret.  I will also drop by at random
intervals to observe you within the suite itself.  All of my notes regarding these
observations will remain sealed until the project is completed, meaning no, you
cannot review my notes or make edits.”

She clasps her hands
on the table in front of her and looks at us.  She says nothing as she
continues to sit there.  I shift my eyes to glance at Rick for some sign as to
what we were supposed to do now.  Since he did nothing, I spoke up, “Can we
talk to you during the course of the project?”

She tilts her head
toward me, “Do you mean talk professionally or socially?”

“Um...both?”

Sarah continues
staring at me, “Professionally, no.  I will not engage in any conversation
about the project as it may corrupt the integrity of the data I’m gathering. 
Socially, yes, you can talk to me, but I’m not likely to respond.”

I’m shocked at her
brutal honesty.  I part my lips to ask another question when I feel Rick’s hand
on my knee, slightly squeezing.

“Is there anything
else that we need to know regarding your involvement, Ms. Montgomery?” he asks.

“No, that is all you
need to know,” she responds.

I’m still trying to
figure out why Rick’s hand was on my knee.

“Thank you,” he
says.  “We will return to our suite and our work.”