First Day Troubles

“You know, you don’t have to eat that rabbit food, Rook,” the woman in the black suit said as she sat down across from her new partner.  Her hard plastic tray was filled with a towering pile of meat cooked medium rare and drenched in some kind of sauce.

The rookie’s face blanched.  “I don’t know how you can eat that after what just happened.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “What, still a little squeamish after we staked all those bloodsuckers?”  She then stuffed a comically large piece of meat in her mouth and began to chew.

“There was blood everywhere,” the young man said.  “And we killed over a dozen living, thinking beings.”

“Look,” she said, still chewing as she spoke.  “You’re going to have to get past this.  If killing a few nosferatu in their sleep is bothering you this much, how are you going to handle it if we have to go after a coven of witches?  Or heavens forbid, a clan of yetis that are encroaching on human lands?”

“You’re all heart, Agent Castle.  I think I understand why the section chief had that sympathetic look on his face when he told me you’d be my partner.”  He poked at his salad, skewering a tomato as the tall blonde across from him shoved another chunk of meat in her mouth.

“You’re wrong about that, my boy,” said a voice from behind him.  He turned and saw the man who was in charge of managing the Agency’s cafeteria and janitorial staff behind him.

“Hey Jerry,” Special Agent Brenna Castle said as she shoved another piece of meat in her mouth.  In that short time, she’d eaten at least two, maybe three pounds of meat.  “Going for seconds, Rook.  You want anything?”

“I’m fine,” he said as she stood, not really listening to him.  “Is she always like this?” he asked the man in the white shirt and blue tie.

“It’s a side effect of the bloodlust,” Jerry said, stroking his salt and pepper beard.  “Killing always leaves her starving in some way.  And she’s purely a carnivore, so, you know, we make sure there’s something she can eat and plenty of it here in the cafeteria.”

“That’s…odd,” the rookie said.  “I could see not being fazed by it all, but it actually makes her hungry?”

“Or horny,” Agent Castle said, sitting back down with another tray of meat.  Based on the different color of the tray and her speed returning to her seat, the rookie had to conclude that the staff had another tray ready for her.

“H-Horny?” the rookie asked, clearly startled.  Castle had seen his file.  He was a by the book, no nonsense patrol officer in the Midwest before encountering his first werewolf and being recruited by the Agency.  It wasn’t surprising that he’d be a bit callow.

“It’s basically the same thing,” Jerry said.  “At least where Miss Castle is concerned.”

“How’s that track?”

“Mama was a succubus,” the agent said as she wiped a bit of red juices from her lips.

“So you feed on the life force of men by sleeping with them?”

Jerry laughed.  “I see someone was too prudish to memorize the more lurid parts of his employee manual.  Succubi don’t absorb the life force of their partners.  It’s the energy willingly given off during the act that feeds them.  It’s mostly a symbiotic relationship.  Assuming the partner doesn’t become addicted and forget to drink any water or eat food during a days long session.  More than a few have died due to dehydration or exhaustion that way.”

The rookie looked at his partner, wide-eyed.  “Oh don’t give me that look.  I’ve never banged a guy to death.  I’ve only slept with three men in my life, I’ll have you know.  And every one of them was a boyfriend at the time.”

Jerry laughed.  “She does have a tendency to eat live animals if you don’t get her food right after a fight, though.”

“IT WAS ONE SQUIRREL, JERRY!” Agent Castle protested.

“Seeing his partner eat a live squirrel was what made the section chief decide that a desk job was right for him.  Turns out he had a talent for it.  Best thing that could have happened to him, from a career standpoint.”  There was a hint of mischief in Jerry’s voice as he said it, and the rookie couldn’t be sure whether he was being trolled.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like he shows any appreciation for all I’ve done for him,” Agent Castle said as she stuffed her mouth once more.  “He still won’t tell me what’s in Section 13.”

The rookie had heard of the mythical Section 13, of course.  Everyone at the Agency had.  It was said to be where the Agency kept its most dangerous secret.  Some of his classmates had theorized that the Devil himself was trapped in there.  Others thought that it might house space aliens.  His own personal theory is that the agency was working on some kind of biological agent – a virus, perhaps – that could be used to either depower or kill paranormals.

But the fact that he was sitting across from a half-demon made him rethink that whole Devil theory.  If demons were real, why not Satan himself?

Agent Castle suddenly reached up and tapped her left ear.  “This is Castle.  I see.  Yeah, we’re just finishing up lunch.  I’ll take the rookie and we’ll go look into it.”

“Another mission already?” he asked.

“Twenty bucks says it involves werewolves,” Jerry said.

“You’re on.”

Castle disconnected from her call.  “Rook, let me let you in on a little secret.  NEVER bet against Jerry.  Hurry and finish up.  We’re wheels up in ten.  Looks like an unregistered clan of lesser werewolves have moved in on the territory of a registered Loup Garou down in Louisiana.  Dispatch says they’re liked for the deaths of a number of innocents in Charlottesville, so we’re gonna go round them up before they antagonize him.”

“We’re protecting a werewolf from other werewolves?”

“Oh, he doesn’t need protecting.  He could easily tear their entire pack apart.  But the public might notice.  And since he’s been good, only hunting the targets we’ve cleared for him when his need to kill gets too great, our end of the deal is that we keep others off his turf so it doesn’t become an issue.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this,” the rookie complained, staring plaintively at his salad.

“Don’t worry, my boy,” Jerry said.  “You go get ready, and I’ll get you a nice smoothie for the road.”

The helicopter ride to the airport had been made in silence, as had the plane ride into Louisiana.  And true to Jerry’s word, the smoothie had calmed the rookie’s stomach.

The Agency’s field office gave them the address of the Loup Garou, one Louis LeBlanc, and they drove off to meet him in their rented Jeep.  They arrived sometime in the late afternoon, maybe an hour before sundown.

The man and his house were surprisingly normal seeming.  The rookie could have lived next to him for years and never have known that he was a man-eating werewolf.  Of course, many had said that about Jeffrey Dahmer, so that wasn’t super surprising, he guessed.

“And you’re sure that they’re within this radius?” Agent Castle asked, indicating the circle drawn on the map.

LeBlanc nodded.  “Their alpha took the time to mark his territory during the last full moon before they killed that hobo.”  He sighed.  “Anyway, I took a few hours and confirmed the whole thing.  Unlike lesser wolves, I don’t need a full moon to change, just any moonlight at all will do.  So I had my full sense of smell when I investigated it last night, and they didn’t have any idea I was there.  Of course, they’re noseblind if they don’t notice my presence during tonight’s moon.”

“Rook, have the local office contact Homeland Security and look into any new arrivals to those neighborhoods.  We’ll need to quietly evacuate a few blocks before moonrise and we want to make sure we have the right ones.”

Despite the rushed response, things went about as well as could be expected.  Homeland Security had established a three block perimeter to contain the “terrorists”, then the two agents went and knocked on the door of the suspected werewolves.

“We know what you are,” Agent Castle called.  “There’s no reason for this to end badly.  Open up the door and surrender, and I promise you’ll be treated fairly.  But any aggression will be met in kind, and I promise it will not turn out in your favor.”

They’d responded by shooting her through the door with a shotgun.

“Castle!” the rookie had shouted, returning fire.  But then, to his amazement, she stood right back up, blood all over her body.  Her eyes glowed violet in the dark of the night, as did the knives she’d drawn from…where had they come from, anyway?

Her movement was a blur as she charged through the front door, sending splinters into the building and utterly surprising the occupants.  Less than two minutes later, she emerged, covered in blood and favoring what looked to be a broken wrist.  She tapped her ear bud.  “It’s done.  Send a cleanup crew.”

“What happened?” the rookie asked her.

“I guess the terrorists blew themselves up, rather than let themselves be captured.  Open the trunk.  I need to clean up, and then you either need to strip naked or drive me to the nearest Waffle Johns.”

“What about your wrist?”

“Oh, right.”  She snapped it into place with an audible crack and went to the open trunk, where she stripped to her undergarments before wiping down with a towel and putting on a clean dark cotton dress.

She closed the trunk and spotted the rookie in the driver’s seat.  He turned on the engine and plugged in an address.  “It’s less than five minutes from here.”

“Smart choice,” she said, getting into the passenger seat.

They arrived at the diner to find all the usual early morning clientele there.  Among the strung out and drunk patrons, he was the only one who looked out of place, since he wasn’t the least bit disheveled.  At least, until she sat down and ordered.

“I need at least a dozen – no, make that two dozen – eggs.  Cook them however you want.  Or don’t and serve them to me in a glass.  Your call.  And then I want your ham.”

The waitress took it surprisingly in stride.  “So, the ham steak?  Country or city?”

“No, you don’t understand.  I want ALL of your ham.”

“O…kay…” The waitress looked dubious until Castle held up her Agency issued Black Card with its unlimited spending allowance.  “And for you, sir?”

“Um…just some toast and coffee.  And some orange juice.”

"You sure, Rook?" Castle asked. "I'm buying."

His face blanched. "Yeah, toast is plenty."