Simon recognized the names. Other hunters who'd gone through Reuben's special program. Other hunters who weren't around anymore.
"I'm not them."
"No," Reuben agreed. "You're not. You're my best student. One of the few we managed to save after—" He stopped himself. "The point is, you're valuable. Too valuable to lose because you think you know better than the people who rebuilt you."
Rebuilt. That's what Reuben always called it. Not trained. Not changed. Rebuilt.
Reuben leaned forward. "The pills keep the worst parts of you locked down. You remember what you were like when I found you? The rage? The violence? You attacked three of my men before we got you sedated."
Simon remembered fragments. His mother's blood on the floor. The vampire's teeth. Then nothing but red haze until he woke up strapped to a medical table with Reuben standing over him.
"That wasn't me," Simon said quietly.
"No? Then who was it? Who broke Thompson's arm in three places? Who bit through the restraints until his mouth bled?" Reuben's eyes never left his. "That rage is still in you, Simon. The program didn't remove it. We just gave you the tools to control it."
Simon bit his tongue to keep his silence. There was nothing he could say in response that wouldn't sound as if he were pissing on the gift Reuben had given him.
He didn't want to sound insolent in front of the man who'd given him a new lease on life.
"Your supplements are not optional," Reuben said. "Two pills every twelve hours. It's not a difficult ask when they're the only thing standing between you and what you could become."
Simon met his gaze. "What I could become is a better hunter. When I reduce the doses, my senses sharpen. I can detect them from farther away. I'm faster and stronger."
"You're playing with fire." Reuben stood, moving to look out his office window at the city below. "Do you know how many recruits we put through the program after your cohort? Twelve. Do you know how many survived?"
Simon knew the answer. "Three."
"Two," Reuben corrected. "Sigal succumbed last month." An uncharacteristic sigh escaped Simon's mentor.
Simon found he didn't want to know exactly how Sigal had been lost.
Whatever had happened to the young redhead would not happen to him.
"This is a serious matter," Reuben said. "The process that saved you nearly destroyed you. We pushed your body and mind to the absolute limit. We turned your trauma into a weapon." Reuben shot him a look. "But weapons need maintenance. Skip that maintenance, and they become unreliable. Dangerous. To themselves and everyone around them."
He turned back to face Simon. "Harmon doesn't know about the program, that's why he keeps trying to partner you up. But I know what happens when you're off your doses too long. The aggression. The impulsiveness. The way your judgment starts to slip."
"My judgment is fine."
"Really? Then why did Charlie Dracul escape?"
Simon didn't answer.
Reuben returned to his desk, picked up a familiar prescription bottle, and held it out. "Two pills, every twelve hours. No exceptions. No rationing. No trying to give yourself an 'edge.'"
Simon took the bottle. The label read 'Haloperidol' but they both knew that wasn't what was inside. The real compound didn't have a civilian name.
"If I find out you're skipping doses again," Reuben said, "I'll pull you from fieldwork myself. Permanently."
"You can't?—"
"I made you what you are, Simon. I can unmake you just as easily." Reuben's tone wasn't threatening. It was matter-of-fact. "The Organization trusts me to keep you functional. If I say you're compromised, that's it. You're done."
Simon pocketed the pills. "Understood."
Reuben studied him for a long moment. "Your mother would be proud of what you've become. A protector. A shield against the monsters."
"She'd be alive if I'd been this back then."
