The Agency, Volume IV

by Dianne Sylvan

  “Shithouse rat,” Jason told her. “Is he awake?”

  SA-14 nodded. “Audio, visual, and ecto are monitoring. We’re ready for you.”

  “Let’s get this done, then, and get the little whack-a-mole back in his cage.”

  He opened the door and stepped inside, and automatically raised his shields as high as they would go—the kid was putting off serious vibes, both projecting and receiving, and had the chaotic careless energy of someone with no training whatsoever. Thankfully the room was walled off in every possible way, so his aura was probably not affecting anyone else on the ground level.

  His aura wasn’t evil, certainly, and didn’t give the impression of insanity on the surface; rather, it was curious, even wondering, touching and probing everything around him as if he had been born blind and only today gained sight. Something had woken his gifts, woken them late, and that was dangerous.

  Jason plopped the folder down on the table and took up his chair opposite the subject, folding his hands and studying the boy in silence for the better part of a minute.

  He was human, at least. He watched Jason without any fear whatsoever, his wide dark eyes gleaming with too much light the same way Rowan’s sometimes did. Most people in this situation sweated and fidgeted, but he simply sat with his hands laced in his lap, waiting, relaxed.

  It was damned unsettling.

  Jason refused to cede the upper hand, however, and gave the boy a sweeping look from head to foot, taking in as much as he could without compromising his shields. Finally he met the boy’s eyes again, and this time he was ready. The strangeness, and the sense that the boy knew far more than he should about far more than was in the room was not a surprise this time.

  He had to be a level 6 at least, probably an empath and telepath in equal measure judging from the way he was feeling at Jason’s shields, testing, tasting, but not trying to force his way in or get any closer than a light, almost childlike touch.

  They stared at each other, one stern, one serene, for a long time.

  Finally, Jason opened the folder, revealing the data sheet with the boy’s picture. “So,” he said. “I understand you’re Jesus Christ.”

  Part Four

  The young man smiled. "You have doubts."

  Jason smiled back, though not with a lot of humor. "According to our records your name is Joshua Cohen. Second son of Maria and David Cohen, a lawyer and CPA respectively. Maria, a naturalized citizen born in Mexico City; David, born and raised in Houston, Texas. You're a graduate of Rice University, here in Austin as a social worker with the Texas School for the Blind and Visually Impaired. Noble, but not exactly holy."

  Joshua's smile broadened. "All things are holy, Agent Adams."

  "Which means nothing is," Jason retorted, then looked back down at the file. "Three days ago in a session with a female student named Amy Ackerman, you claim you healed her blindness."

  "I did nothing," Joshua said. "God worked through me. I was merely the vessel."

  "Whereupon the school decided you were a lunatic. They say your behavior in the last week changed radically leading up to the incident, and that you were delusional, even raving at times. One of the teachers whose brother is a Catholic priest asked you to visit with him, and you scared the bejesus--pardon me, scared the shit--out of some nuns. They called the men in white coats, who took you to Austin State Hospital, and that was when you came to our attention. Does all of this ring true, Mr. Cohen?"

  "Yes, I suppose," he replied. "I regret frightening the priest and the sisters."

  "How exactly did you frighten them?" Jason asked, though it was typed out neatly on the report.

  "I looked at them and I could see into their hearts," he said, growing serious. "The priest...he was abusing one of the nuns, and had done so with others. The vision so consumed me that I couldn't stop myself from blurting the truth out." Joshua looked a little sheepish, and added, "This is all very new to me, Agent."

  "All right...why don't you tell me how this started? You haven't always been able to read people and heal blindness."

  "No, of course not. I grew up as normal as anyone--" The smile returned. "Well, perhaps not you, Agent Adams. But nothing about my childhood betrayed anything extraordinary, except that I was extremely sensitive, picked on for being a sissy. I didn't live up to the traditional notion of masculinity and so I was a target. I'm sure you can relate."

  Jason sat back, frowning. "Are you suggesting something about me, Mr. Cohen?"

  A long blink. "No, I'm not. I can see it as plainly as I can see that you're a vampire. It's all right there, in your heart, to be read like a book."

  Jason's heart--book or no book--lumbered around in his chest in surprise. He should have been way too well-shielded for the boy to get anything off him, let alone what he was. "I see. And I suppose you're going to threaten me with hellfire now?"

  "No Father of mine would cast a soul into the Pit for falling in love."

  "Well, then there's always atheism, vampirism, the long list of people I've shot..."

  "Judgment isn't my purpose here, Agent," Joshua said. "I'm here to help. As for how it began--a week ago I was visited in a dream by an angel of the Lord. He said I was destined to be a great healer and deliver souls from evil. When I woke, I found I had these abilities."

  "Out of nowhere?"

  "Yes."

  "Tell me more about this angel. What did he look like? Did he have a name?"

  "He didn't give me a name...but I remember thinking he was as great and terrible as the Old Testament angels were, but still different. No flaming sword, for example, but he did have wings...without feathers. Great wings that blocked out the sun, smooth like a bat's. His skin was pale grey like stone."

  Jason nearly fell out of his chair.

  A Seraph.

  "Did your angel have blue eyes like mine?" he asked.

  Joshua thought about it, then shook his head. "Green. Bright emerald green."

  It couldn't be Lex, then. Another Seraph.

  And if it really was a Seraph, the boy's story might be true, or at least partly so--the Seraph only appeared to guard those with an important purpose on Earth.

  "Have you seen the angel again since then?" he managed.

  "No. Only in the dream. But everything he said has proven true."

  "All right, then, Mr. Cohen," Jason said, "I'm not going to return you to ASH just yet. I'd like you to speak with someone in the Agency about your abilities. We have tests we perform to gauge their strength and type, and we can help you learn to control them."

  Joshua stared at him, finally taken aback by something. "You mean you believe me?”

  "I believe you're a very strong psychic whose gifts have been awakened unusually late in life, and I'd like to know what role this angel played in that and if he's taking advantage of you for his own ends. I don't believe you're the Son of God, because I don't believe in God. But that doesn't necessarily mean you're crazy."

  "How long will I have to stay?" the boy asked hesitantly. "I have so much work to do..."

  "Give me 48 hours to have you tested, and then you can talk to our Psychic Development people about what to do next. I'm afraid I can't let you go wandering around the city without any sort of training or protection; it's dangerous for you and for everyone else. But once we're assured you aren't a threat, you'll be free to go, with the understanding that we'll be watching to make sure you obey the rules."

  "I've never been known for obeying rules," Joshua said. "But as long as the angel doesn't protest and I have no signs from God directing me otherwise, I think I'd appreciate your help."

  "Good boy. Now, I'm going to leave you in the capable hands of Shadow Agent 14 who will arrange lodging for you while I speak to the Director."

  Jason stood, but as he reached for the file on the table, Joshua's hand darted out and seized his wrist. The vampire started to snatch his arm back, but he looked up at the boy's face to deliver a fairly nasty threat, and paused.

  "
Don't be afraid," Joshua said softly, his voice sounding far away and his eyes unfocused. "He'll come home to you--but you have to save him, Jason. No one else can. You're as much his guardian angel as Lex is hers."

  Jason couldn't find words for a minute, but the first thing he could think to say was, "I'm no angel."

  An amused sort of half-smile played over Joshua's lips, and he said, "Not yet."

  *****

  Lex had the feeling he was being watched.

  Oh, he knew the Agency kept an eye on him--he could sense Eyes and Ears both sweeping through his aerie during the day when he was in bed and sometimes at night when he was reading or playing the Rose. Luckily so far they hadn't recorded him and Beck together, or if they had he'd been too busy to notice.

  This was something more than that. He could feel eyes on him, real eyes, inhuman eyes, as he glided over Austin or walked the streets in his coat. They weren't threatening, simply observing, and he made no secret of the fact that they weren't a secret.

  Being a strange Seraph-vampire hybrid, or whatever he was, his body bent to some of the vampire's rules and some it didn't. He wasn't as vulnerable to sunlight, and he had better long distance vision; also, sometimes he craved food, and it didn't make him ill the way it would Beck. Specifically, there were nights when he needed bread so badly he could barely think, so he would drop down to a nearby market and buy a fresh loaf with his limited cash and eat the entire thing in one sitting. Usually it was bread, but sometimes he needed peaches, and one night he practically inhaled a disturbingly large hunk of cheddar in the elevator on the way up to the aerie.

  Beck had asked the medical staff and gotten a shrug; there was too little known about Lex's kind, and what was known was either fuzzy myth or cold fact discerned from his tests weeks ago. Many things about him baffled the Agency--cheese cravings were the least of their concerns.

  That night, he ventured down to the market and came home with a loaf of bread and a tub of chipotle pesto, one of his old favorites as a human, wondering if it would still taste at all appealing or if he'd take a bite and end up tossing it over the side of the building like he had the pineapple.

  Again, as he entered the Winchester, he felt someone watching him, and paused long enough to face the direction he felt the gaze coming from and stick his tongue out.

  When he got upstairs he shucked his coat, thankful to have the oppressive heat of the garment off. His body temperature was about 100 degrees, and he was never cold. He was thankful for the coat because it hid his wings so he could have his outings (and his bread), but still, it was uncomfortable, as was wearing a shirt, which he also removed.

  Doing things with longer, sharper fingernails had taken some getting used to. He kept them filed relatively short but they still grew in points. He gave up trying to undo the twist tie on the bread and just ripped the bag open with an irritated noise.

  Who, he wondered again, was spying on him? It wasn't human, but there was something familiar about it. He should have been alarmed that anyone knew of his existence, and probably should have told the SA about it, but he wasn't feeling particularly charitable toward the Agency at the moment so he kept it to himself. He was far too curious about what it wanted to tell Beck, who would hunt it down and kill it.

  Thinking of her made him smile. Thinking of her also made his dick hard.

  He sighed and dipped a hunk of bread into the pesto. Beck was on patrol tonight, and would be for the rest of the week, so he wouldn't get to see her until Friday. He should also have been alarmed at how disappointed he was.

  Damn the Adams twins, anyway. It seemed they existed solely to shoot things and make him sweat.

  As if the universe was laughing snidely at him, he heard the elevator doors open, and a footfall he recognized with no little shock outside the door.

  Lex set the food aside and stood, hooking his wings and waiting.

  "Anyone there?" came an uncertain voice.

  Lex took a deep breath. "Come in."

  It was, of course, Jason, for the first time since they'd...broken up, if that was the term for it. The vampire looked as beautiful as always in his once and future black, but he didn't seem to be as heavily armed as he had been the last time. He looked tired, and torn between coming into the room and running the other way.

  "Well," Lex said. "This is a surprise."

  Deep blue eyes moved over him, and Jason was holding his breath, as if he'd forgotten what Lex looked like in a couple of weeks. One of his hands twitched when he saw the tattoo, probably imagining what it would feel like.

  "I..."

  They stared at each other, but only one was really having trouble speaking. Lex was simply waiting.

  It was odd, but in the back of his mind Lex had been wishing for this moment, wishing to see his sire again. Some part of him had hoped beyond hope that Jason would appear and want him back...but as Lex watched him, he realized that whatever Jason might want, Lex didn't. Whether via hard reality or Beck, Lex had gotten over him.

  "I wanted to see if you were all right," Jason said, breaking the tense silence. "And to apologize."

  "Oh?"

  Jason looked around--the furniture had been moved since his last visit, and Lex had made the place much more comfortable both for himself and his one non-winged guest--and ended up taking the chair he'd always sat in before.

  Lex couldn't sit in normal chairs. He had stools. He pulled one over and sat.

  "I was a complete bastard," Jason went on. "I should never have left you alone so soon, no matter what was going on in my life. I should have taken care of you. I brought you across and that means I was responsible for you, but I pushed you away at the first opportunity. For that I'm sorry."

  Lex nodded. "I accept."

  Another silence, Seraph and vampire each waiting for the other to speak. Finally Jason said, "Beck said she visits you."

  Lex's heart skipped a beat--did he know? She'd said she wasn't going to say anything. If Jason got anywhere near the nest he'd smell her, but the rest of the room should be clear.

  "Yes," he replied, swallowing.

  Jason gestured at Lex's torso. "That looks like her work."

  "It is. They're angelic symbols of protection. I got it a few days ago."

  "Speaking of which..." Jason looked relieved to have something else to talk about. "There's something I need to ask you about, for a case I'm working on. Are you aware of any other Seraph here in the city?"

  Lex's eyebrows shot up. Subject change, indeed. "No..." Then he thought of his mystery stalker, and added, "but I'm not sure I would recognize one if there were. We're rather good at concealing ourselves, you know. Part of the job. Why do you ask?"

  "This human was brought in claiming he'd seen an angel in his dreams, and what he described sounded just like you except it had green eyes. It gave him messages supposedly from God and is somehow linked to his psychic abilities waking up spontaneously. Do you know if you can do that?"

  "I have no idea."

  "I was afraid you'd say that." Jason sighed. "Let me know if you see any evidence that there's another Seraph lurking around, please. I need to know what it did to this boy--the poor kid thinks he's Jesus Christ."

  Lex smiled. "Is he?"

  "Of course not. Even if you believe in that kind of crap there aren't any references to the Second Coming being a skinny white social worker from Houston."

  "I don't know," Lex said. "I think a social worker is a pretty good candidate. Is he Jewish?"

  "Half, on his father's side, so technically no. Mexican on his mother's. His name's Joshua Cohen--"

  "Joshua?" Lex smiled archly. "His father's not a carpenter, is he?"

  "No, a CPA."

  "I'll refrain from jokes about money-changers in the Temple."

  "Thank you. The point is, somehow a Seraph seems to have gotten hold of this boy and is feeding him a line about his destiny. I know you're supposed to be solitary, but it's a little weird to me that we've never heard of a Seraph and
suddenly there's two running around. So if you hear or see something, please let me know."

  "I will."

  "Good." Jason stood. "I should go, then, and leave you to whatever it was you were doing. I just wanted to check on you."

  "No," Lex told him, "you wanted information for a case, and perhaps you're feeling a little sentimental because you've been alone for three weeks. Would it have satisfied you more if I were still grieving your loss?"

  Jason's mouth worked a second before any words came out. "No. I never wanted to hurt you, Lex. I was a fool.”

  “Yes, I suppose you were. But so was I. I expected you to make all of my problems disappear. To save me, to give me purpose. But whatever my purpose here is, I understand now that it has nothing to do with you.”

  The words stung, and it occurred to Lex that Jason might still love him, and might miss him above and beyond the absence of his Elf. Lex wanted to feel compassion for him. He wanted to feel something of what he once had—it hadn’t been that long ago, barely a tick of the clock for a vampire.

  In the end, he chose to be kind. “I understand Rowan will be home soon,” he said, making his voice more soothing. “I’m sure things will be better for you after that. It must have been hard without him.”

  “Yeah.” Jason slumped back into the chair and traced the thread pattern of the arm with his fingernail, then said, almost without meaning to, “Everyone keeps saying it’s all going to work out fine. I wish I could believe that.”

  “You don’t? Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I just…sometimes I think he’d be happier if he stayed with the Clan, with his own people. He could go back to doing what he used to do, and not have to worry about thorny relationship issues or having to kill people. It was different before he was healed, when he used to be in so much pain—I felt like he needed me.”

  Lex folded his hands on his knee and regarded the vampire soberly. “So you think the basis of your relationship is need, and if he doesn’t need you, he won’t want you either?”