The Agency

Ahhhh, equal parts angst-ridden drama and cheesy romance.




"Get me 200cc's of 25x Angelica root tincture. Dr. Lyons, start a line of Ritodrine hydrochloride..."

Chaos. Above her, voices and mechanical noises and the squeak of the gurney wheels were an impenetrable din. The lurch of the elevator, the sickening turns around hallway corners, competing smells and sudden bright lights--it was all part of the confusion, all coming to her from miles away, making no sense, everything fading, fading...

It hurts. God, it hurts so bad. Her entire body was on fire, but lightning struck her middle over and over again, the sucker-punch of an angry universe.

They had known it could happen--that it was highly likely. Still, her heart was screaming in denial. No. No. Please, hold on, baby. Don't go. I didn't mean it when I called you a parasite. I'll find somebody who can be a good Mom if I can't. Just please don't go.

Something was clamped around her face, and air pushed into her lungs. She felt a pinprick, then another, then burning, then heat. Lava pumped through her veins.

She remembered years ago, years and years, being a kid, lying on her stomach with her legs kicked up behind her, reading a book. She had always loved her bedroom; it was a sanctuary from a father who drank and a mother who pretended. But sometimes things were good. Sometimes her father would open the bedroom door and not stink of whiskey, and he'd smile at her, his only child, and say, "Lights out, sweetie," and she'd grin back at him, and they'd remember when he used to read to her, and the day she started reading to him instead, and how sometimes they'd gone out for ice cream, or she'd ridden the lawn mower in his lap while he spun the huge roaring machine around the back yard, back before her baby brother died in his crib.

Her father had never beaten her or even raised his voice, much--he just pulled farther and farther away, and her mother's smile grew correspondingly false and bright.

She'd been in high school when the accident happened, but really, she'd lost them a long time before that.

But she remembered her bedroom. The quilt her grandma had sewn to commemorate her birth. She still had it somewhere, in one of her boxes in storage.

Pain. The drugs were fighting, and they were losing. She heard herself scream again, but the sound was muffled by the oxygen mask.

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, they'd called it. Was there really any other way to die, but suddenly? Even if it took years it was always sudden to someone.

"Stay with us, Sara."

She'd given Elora a jump rope. Before long every Elfling in the Clan had one. They were making up their own rhymes.

Earth and Air and Fire and Water
Goddess loves me, I'm her daughter.
One from two and two from one,
God loves me 'cause I'm his son.

"Get Frog up here and have him run this thing. Find out what's on it. Run the residue through the Ecto-Chrom and do a scan to see what animal it's from."

"Fetal heart rate is falling. Mother's BP is 90/50 and falling."

"Sara."

A female voice thundered silently through her.

Calling her name.

"Sara."

Something flashed in the darkness--light, silver, almost violet like the afterimage of a lightning strike.

"Hold on, Sara. Hold on to me."

Please help me. Help us.

"Hold on."

The rest of the noise was abruptly cut off. She could still hear the monitors beeping, but it was as if all the people in the room had suddenly jumped back away from her.

This time the voice was male, and one she knew well.

"It's okay, anama. Just breathe."

She felt two hands on her body--one on her head, the other on her belly. She heard him take a deep breath...and felt him let go.

Power washed over her like water, the force of a tsunami contained in the gentleness of a Spring morning's rain. Threads of light wrapped around her, one around her heart, several around her middle, more around the rest of her. They wove into a delicate but steel-strong net that caught and held her before she could fall any farther. She could see it, see the light, see it crisscrossing around her, a gossamer web that held fast.

More energy found the source of the pain. It looked like a black sludge coating her skin. The energy burned it off almost as an afterthought.

Finally, he said, "All right...rest now. Rest."

Lights out, sweetie.


*****

They spoke in hushed voices even though Sara was so far under there was no way they'd wake her.

"It's a human bone," Frog said. His eyes kept darting over to the bed, and Jason could see the fear as well as anger--both emotions they all shared. "From a child. A proximal phalanx. The symbol is a bindrune, several symbols linked together. The bone was anointed with an oil comprised of pennyroyal, tansy, and black cohosh--abortifacients. Whoever did this knew she was pregnant. The overall intent is clear: it's a deathspell."

"For Sara?" Ness asked.

"No, specifically for the fetus. Sara would have been considered collateral damage."

The Director looked like she wanted to punch the wall. "What did we get on this Aradia person?"

Jason shook his head. "The trace is still running. If these people would use their actual names our lives would be much easier."

"I want SA-10 on the scene to do a psychometric scan. Try to track her coming and going from the building."

Jason looked over at Rowan, who had collapsed into a chair beside the bed and was holding Sara's hand, staring sightlessly at the floor. "We're going to get this bitch," Jason said, making the words a vow. "We shouldn't have let up on the Blue Moon case. We won't make that mistake again."

He raised his eyes to where Lex stood out of the way, looking like he felt useless. "How are you holding up?"

Lex was pale, shock-worn and weary. "Not so great."

"Thank God you were there," Ness told the Seraph. "If you hadn't known to call us, there's no way the paramedics would have gotten her to us in time."

A smile flickered at the Seraph's lips, but faded. "I should have done something. I should have been able to stop it from happening."

"None of us are infallible," Ness told him. There was rare warmth in her voice. "Not even angels."

Beck appeared in the infirmary doorway and took in the scene, her mouth fixed in a thin line. "No luck with witnesses. Nobody saw anything until she collapsed. The Witch was long gone by then. I suspect she had a cloaking spell on her."

"Why didn't Sara notice something was wrong with her drink?" Lex asked.

Frog, who was still obviously intimidated by the Seraph, took his glasses off and cleaned them on his lab coat. "The hex was designed not to kick in until it made contact with her body. I think she was probably supposed to swallow it. If she had, it probably would have killed her in minutes."

"There aren't too many hexes that are that effective," Beck pointed out.

"No," Jason replied. "But any will work if it's connected to the Reaping Sphere."

"Fuck. We're going to have to get her a royal taster or something after this."

"Not necessarily." Frog put his glasses back on. "Now that we know a magical attack is likely, I can design an amulet for her to wear that will uncross just about anything. If we have Rowan do the actual spellwork it should be nearly invulnerable."

Dr. Nava checked the various monitors hooked up to Sara, made some notations on her computer, and met Jason's eyes. She still looked concerned, but had relaxed somewhat.

"It was close," she said. "Damn close. As it is I want to keep her for a few days for observation and to make sure she doesn't go into preterm labor again. This whole situation is already dangerous enough."

"Keep me apprised," Ness told the doctor. "SA-7, lead the investigation and let me know the minute you find anything we can act on. As soon as we have a positive ID we'll send a team to bring this Aradia in. And get Rowan to bed. He looks like he's about to pass out."

"I'm not leaving," Rowan said quietly without looking up.

Ness gave Jason a "you deal with this" look and departed. Frog, too, left to get back to the lab.

Beck asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Take Lex down to your quarters for the night. I know it's useless to try and send him home. Make sure he gets some sleep."

She nodded and went over to the Seraph, grabbing his arm. "Come on, angel boy. Time for a nap."

To Jason's surprise, Lex didn't argue.

Jason knelt in front of Rowan and caught his eye. "You need to go to bed."

"I'm not leaving."

The fierceness of Rowan's voice was no surprise, though Jason hadn't expected him to have the energy for it after what he’d just done.

They had run into the infirmary in time to see a swarm of doctors and nurses trying to stabilize Sara and the baby. Jason had watched, helpless, knowing by instinct there was nothing they could do—some dark and powerful magic had worked here, striking like a cobra and sinking its envenomed fangs into Sara. At the very least she would lose the baby. That tiny heartbeat, that tiny song, would cease, if it hadn’t already. Nava was trying to get a pulse.

Then he’d seen Rowan’s eyes change color.

The Elf had stood very still in the doorway, breathing slowly, taking in the scene before them. His eyes seemed to ignite and fill with white fire, and Jason felt the air around him begin to crackle. The hair on Jason’s arms stood up and his stomach felt like he’d been dropped from the top of a building.

Rowan stepped forward, and as one, the medical staff stepped back. Their eyes were all riveted to the Elf as he approached the bed and did…whatever it was he did.

Jason got the sense of something changing, little by little—he didn’t remember what it had felt like when Rowan brought him back, but he knew this time it was slower and harder. Rowan didn’t trust his powers unless he held them in absolute iron control, and he had been trying small things since they’d returned, easy exercises to teach him the exact nature of what he was and what he could do. Healing Jason, he had said, had been pure instinct.

This time it wasn’t. As soon as the monitors’ shrill beeping returned to normal and he knew that Sara and the baby were both safe, Rowan stepped back from the bed and fell into the chair. He hadn’t moved since.

“I think you should come home for a while and rest. If anything happens they’ll call us—and you’ll probably know anyway. She’s not going to wake up until at least dawn.”

Rowan shook his head, but his eyes were glazed with exhaustion and heartache, and when Jason drew him to his feet he didn’t fight. In fact he sagged against Jason’s chest, and the vampire held onto him tightly for a while, feeling him tremble, sensing that he was choking back sobs. Of everyone there, Rowan knew best how close they’d come to losing both Sara and the baby. He’d seen it up close, felt it in his own skin as if he’d been poisoned too.

There was the sound of a throat clearing, and Jason half-turned to see Sage hovering in the threshold. Her pretty young face was lined with worry, and she was holding a paper bag.

"Cookies," she said to his questioning eyebrow. "Fudge crinkles. I made them earlier to bring you guys anyway. What can I say? I'm Southern. We bring food."

She came closer and asked, "Is she going to be okay?"

Jason spoke over Rowan's head, still buried in his shoulder. "We think so. She's stabilized."

"I thought maybe I'd sit with her so you could take him to bed," she told him.

"Thank you, Sage," he replied. "That would be perfect."

She handed him the bag, and he guided Rowan out of the infirmary; the Elf cast a glance at Sage, but seemed mollified that there would be someone there with Sara while he was gone.

They were silent on the walk back to their quarters, and Rowan remained so for a long time after the door was shut behind them. Jason nudged him into the shower and changed into more comfortable clothes while the Elf was washing off, then straightened out the covers of Rowan’s bed and lit a stick of incense to help the Elf ground a little. Then he fetched the Tempest from the living room and laid her on the dresser.

Rowan emerged from the steamy bathroom in his robe, and the look on his face was one Jason had rarely seen before: smoldering anger.

“I’m going to find whoever did this,” Rowan said very quietly, “and I’m going to kill them.”

Jason didn’t know what to say to that, so he simply moved over to his side of the bed and patted the sheets. The Elf took the cue and shed his robe, curling up at Jason’s side beneath the covers, his skin still warm and a little damp from the shower. Jason held onto him and he held onto Jason.

“Would you like me to play for you?”

Rowan sighed, then said, “Please. Just…stay here a little longer.”

“I can do that.”

After a moment Rowan said, “This is how it’s going to be, isn’t it. Between this coven and the Sibyl, Sara and the baby are going to be in danger. And once she’s born they’ll still keep trying.”

Jason nuzzled his ear. “We’ll keep them safe.”

“We haven’t so far.”

“We had no idea anyone would try something like this. We still don’t know how Blue Moon knew Sara was pregnant in the first place. But now that we’re aware of what lengths they’re willing to go to, we can figure out how to stop them. We’ve got the whole Agency’s resources—archives, magicians, scientists, an entire arsenal of protective spells. Not to mention all of us. Those bastards have no idea who they’re dealing with.”

The Elf, warmed and cozy in the well-loved cocoon of strong arms and soft sheets, began to relax a little; Jason took the opportunity to wrap a light layer of energy around him, opening the connection between them a little wider so he could soothe Rowan’s anxiety more directly. Rowan, of course, could tell what he was doing, but had no complaints, and closed his eyes gratefully to let Jason do whatever her wanted.

Such trust. Jason remembered a time when things hade been different. “Do you remember our first date?”

There was a smile in Rowan’s slightly sleepy voice. “Oh, yes...ever since that night Indian food turns me on.”

“And our first kiss?”

Now the smile was visible, though Rowan’s eyes were still closed. “On your couch, during Pentecost.”

“To think that something so beautiful could come out of such an ugly time,” Jason said, lacing his fingers through Rowan’s. “Think of it that way, amori. No matter what happens, no matter what monsters we have to fight, one way or another in ten months you’ll be a father again. That weird looking pink thing from the ultrasound will be a pointy-eared little girl. Just think about what an amazing creature she’s going to be and how it’ll all be worth it in the end.”

Rowan looked at him, still smiling a little. “Since when are you such an optimist?”

Jason kissed him and said, “The idea’s been growing on me. I think it started that night on my couch, when I realized all my hope hadn’t been in vain. I loved you for years and was so afraid you’d never love me back.”

“I always did.”

“Even then…for a long time I was constantly afraid of losing you. You were kidnapped, you died, or didn’t, and then you ran away, and I was so sure you wouldn’t come home…but you did. You always came back to me no matter how insane the circumstances. Suddenly I have faith where I never did before…that things might actually be all right.”

There was wonder in Rowan’s eyes. “I never thought in a million years you’d say something like that.”

“Well, I never thought in a million years I’d be happier with someone than I was with my sire.”

He said it almost offhandedly, but Rowan’s eyes widened and his breath caught, and Jason realized both the implications, and the truth, of the words. He hadn’t really thought about it until now, but though his relationship with Fox had been passionate and almost poetic, Fox had always been the leader, the mentor; with Rowan, he had a partnership of equals that was infinitely more satisfying.

“Like I said before,” he told the Elf, looking in his eyes, “You’ve changed, but so have I. You’re my soul mate, Rowan. I don’t care if you’re an Elf or a god or a three-headed troll. I’m in this for good.”

Rowan’s smile felt just the way the sun had, those few moments Jason had stood in the clearing before the Rune Tree, and it warmed him from skin to soul…

…almost as much as what the Elf did next.