“I plan to expand the latter,” Marc said.

“I want in, Sir.”

Marc pointed to a chair with a back against the opposing wall by the entrance. Private Moreau scrounged it for Marc, but he preferred the ability to turn around and look those who visited in the eye.

As Murphy stepped inside to sit down his eyes caught something on the desk. It did not take much for Marc to guess what the man noticed. He’d have to be dead to miss it.

“That’s part of the reason I’m here, Sergeant,” Marc said.

“A part, Sir?” Murphy asked.

“I provide intelligence that… is unavailable through regular channels. When I have the time, I venture out on hunts.”

The Sergeant smiled upon hearing that last part. Marc returned the smile because he knew then and there that he found the right man for the job.

Evelyn was an expert at it, but she preferred to use her natural charm and feminine wiles to get what she wanted. For Evelyn it’s all about the challenge and the game. People seldom notice the supernatural when they’re charmed.

Marc needed his blood to ensure silence, doubly so if Murphy chose to treat him like the monster he was. 

“I want to make sure no one ever ends up in a situation like mine.”

Overall a great answer, and it took him several heartbeats to say it out loud. This further highlighted the reason and temperance that made him invaluable for the role.

“Yes… Sir,” Murphy replied while tensing his jaw muscles.

Marc smiled and enabled his fangs to protrude. The pearly white and sharp fangs caused Murphy to take on a sharp breath but he did not react.

“You’re correct,” Marc said. “So why are you here?”

Marc’s gamble hinged on this one answer. This was one of the few times he wished to have the voice. Many of his kin could modulate their voices to pass on commands and compel.

“I don’t know, Sir,” Murphy began. “I don’t think they were men.”

The ability to be humble and admit to their ignorance was a good sign. He did not need a zealot that immediately yelled ‘heretic’ or ‘demon’ whenever the unexpected cropped up.

There’s more to it than that. The Sergeant must have also suspected that Marc was also not human.

“Would you include me—(me in that category)?” Marc asked.

“Yes… Sir,” Murphy replied while tensing his jaw muscles.

He wanted a man of reason who was also cool under pressure. Marc needed someone trustworthy to look after his men and lead them to victory. There are things out there that I can’t explain, even after four centuries.

“I’m glad, Sergeant,” Marc began. “Let me ask you a question. What did you see that night?”

Those eyes opened wide and he blinked several times. Murphy must have expected Marc to fill in the blanks instead of a debrief. Even my presence is suspect.

“I don’t know, Sir,” Murphy began. “I don’t think they were men.”

“How would you react if a colonel was wandering alone through No Man’s Land?”

Being a direct man, the Sergeant went to open his mouth, but left it there open a quarter of the way. As reason took over he furrowed his brow, tilted his head to the side and took a deep breath.

“I see your point, Sir,” Murphy said.

Marc smiled because the Sergeant exhibited two valuable traits. The first being the ability to react quickly, while the second was to let reason temper his actions.

He had no need for a hothead that runs into the fray. They would invariably get themselves killed and in all likelihood take several men to the grave.

At least this question moved in the right direction. Private Lewis lacked the wherewithal to consider the disconnect. Marc had to lead the young lad to both the questions and the answer. That proved to be tedious.

“I’m what I need to be,” Marc said.

“Meaning, Sir?”

“How would you react if a colonel was wandering alone through No Man’s Land?”

“Sir,” Murphy said as he knocked on the doorframe. Minus the door.

“Ah, Sergeant Murphy,” Marc said in a warm voice. “Have you considered my offer?”

“So it was you?” Murphy confirmed.

The Sergeant was not the first man to wonder, but was one of the few to act on it. Most simply chose not to question the disconnect and move on. He knows when to push back.

“It was,” Marc replied.

“You’re a Colonel?”

“I am,” Marc replied who saw where this was headed.

“You were a captain?” Murphy asked.

A moment later the Sergeant spotted what passed for an office and marched smartly up to the door. Mark turned around on his stool to get a better look at the man.

The man was not more than thirty years old, which was comparatively rare outside of a war. While battlefield promotions were common nowadays, Marc knew from the man’s record that it was raw talent and determination that got him those chevrons.

Murphy was clean shaven, in shape and comparatively tall. That sandy blonde hair and blue eyes would disarm many, but Marc was not so easily swayed by appearance. I also live in a world of beautiful monsters.