The Agency

“All right, get up,” Beck commanded, removing her foot from his neck. “Let’s go again.”

Lex groaned. “You said this was the last time.”

“I lied. Get up.”

He struggled to untwist himself from his wings and get back to his feet, while Beck waited patiently—well, not really. He groped for the knife that had skittered out of his hand, and tried to look somewhat dignified.

“We’re getting nowhere,” he complained. “I can’t do this.”

Beck shook her head. “I won’t deny you suck balls, baby. But surely something will sink in if we keep at it.”

Lex hooked his wings. “It hasn’t so far. Let’s face it. I’m just not built for your kind of fighting. We need a new strategy.”

She bit her lip and crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. “I have no idea how to design a training program for you. I’ve never taught--or fought--anyone with wings before. You’re really kind of awkward on the ground, but I don’t know what to do with you in the air.”

“Now, that’s not true,” he said wryly. “I seem to recall you’ve done a lot of things with me in the air that worked out quite well.”

She snorted. “Great--next time another Seraph attacks you, you can shag him to death.”

He studied the knife in his hand, a plain blade that probably wouldn’t do him much good against his own kind anyway. Neither would firearms, which he flat-out refused to carry. He needed the knife that the assassin Seraph had tried to kill him with, but it was still being analyzed.

Beck glanced at the training room clock and sighed. “Time’s up. I’ve got a case disposition meeting in thirty minutes and I need a shower. I’ll think about this some more--there has to be some useful approach somewhere.”

Handing the knife back to her, he nodded, but without much enthusiasm. Truth be told he wasn’t exactly leaping with excitement about the idea of learning how to kill people, especially his own kind…he understood it was necessary, but he didn’t have to like it.

How, he wondered as he left the training room, did other Seraph do their jobs? The assassin had the knife, but even with a cursed blade it wasn’t very efficient. Their bodies weren’t designed for hand-to-hand combat. They were designed to glide. Did they throw spears from the air? That wasn’t terribly useful either given that they could only fly if they jumped from a high place, not from the ground. They’d be good at soaring around a castle turret in a siege but not much else. It seemed like a flawed design.

That left arcane weaponry, and there again he met a dead end. Aside from his musical talent and a few latent psychic abilities that were starting to become annoying, he didn’t see how he could use magic against attackers. There had to be something they were overlooking.

Was it something that the other Seraph knew instinctively that he didn’t, because he was different? He hoped not.

Lex managed to wedge himself into one of the large shower stalls in the locker room, and rinsed off. Beck hadn’t been too sweaty since the whole hour had consisted of her knocking him over and pinning him down, but he was drenched.

“Useless,” he muttered inbetween dunking his head under the shower spray. He hadn’t been able to prevent the attack on Sara, and whatever Ness had said, making a phone call was hardly heroic. He was obviously not a fighter, although when he’d defended himself against the Seraph both atop the Winchester and at the Rune Tree, he’d held his own by giving into instinct.

Perhaps, again, that was the problem--he couldn’t access those instincts at will. The other Seraph, who were basically mindless soldiers, were nothing but instinct, as they had no personalities or will to get in the way. He was different.

But why?

Why had he been chosen for this if he wasn’t worthy of it? What god or sorcerer or whoever had summoned him into this body had chosen him for such an important task when he lacked the necessary abilities?

Or had his becoming a vampire thrown a wrench in the whole process, and he was supposed to be mindless like the others, but through the reckless intervention of fate, had been turned by Jason instead?

They were deeply uncomfortable thoughts, and Lex’s head hurt with their size. He toweled himself off and retrieved the bag he’d brought with a change of clothes. The SA’s uniforms didn’t really fit him; the pants were okay, but the shirts were a bit of a joke given his torso. At least he could still wear jeans.

He had planned to leave the base and go home, but an idea occurred to him. There was, as far as he knew, only one other person with any sort of experience with a Seraph besides those who had been dreamed to the Rune Tree.

He stepped onto the elevator and got a wide-eyed stare from the woman who rushed in just as the doors were sliding shut. She was wearing a lab coat and glasses and clutching a clipboard to her chest like a shield as she peered at him, and he smiled at her tiredly.

“Hello,” he said, startling her. If she’d heard of him, obviously she hadn’t heard that he could speak English instead of just communicating in grunts and growls.

“Hi,” she replied nervously.

“Ground level?” he asked.

“Um…yeah.”

He pushed the button for the surface-level floor and faced forward, trying not to make the poor girl any more uncomfortable than she already was, but a moment later she asked, hesitantly, almost shocked at her own temerity, “Um…could I…”

He found himself grinning and edged closer to her. “Go ahead.”

She swallowed hard, but reached out her left hand and just barely touched the edge of his wing.

“Wow,” she breathed. “And…you can fly?”

He nodded.

“Wow.”

She watched him in silent awe for the rest of the ride up, and he smiled to himself at the way she tried not to keep looking back at him as they went their separate ways.

Lex knew where he was going--his directional recall was excellent, another change from when he'd been human. Alex had always gotten lost, even the last night he was mortal on his way to the concert that would change his life...he remembered, in fact, that he'd almost given up trying to find the place, but had almost stumbled across the music building at UT, just in time to get the last seat in the back, just in time for Jason to take the stage.

It was another lifetime. He still wasn't sure if he regretted that night or not.

He knocked on the door. "Joshua?"

There was no answer, and repeated knocks did no good. A tendril of worry made its way up through his chest--he hadn't spoken to the boy after their first meeting, and he was fairly sure the Agency would have forgotten about Joshua the way they wanted to forget him. That's how this place was; it tore lives up from the root and then dropped them to wither in the sun.

He was, he supposed, being unfair. There were people here who cared about him and checked up on him, even besides Beck. Ness had been surprisingly solicitous of his welfare. The only person here who seemed to have any disdain for him was Sara, and he understood that even as it frustrated him.

Then of course there was Jason, another cause for frustration. Lex had no idea how to classify their relationship. There were times he craved the vampire's company as a sire and a lover, and times he wanted to slap the hell out of him.

He was starting to think everyone felt that way. Beck certainly did. She adored her twin but he drove her to distraction with amusing frequency.

Lex saw someone moving down the hall and called, "Excuse me."

A uniformed Agent paused and looked back at him. "Can I help you?"

He hadn't dealt with many actual Agents, but they were all cut from the same cloth--on duty they were detached, professional, and dangerous. This one, a young Latina with muscles more impressive than most men, didn't betray her surprise at seeing him, but he knew how she would have reacted without the mask of her job.

"I’m looking for Joshua Cohen," he said. "Is he still staying here?"

The Agent frowned. "As far as I know. He may have gone out, though; the Director decided that he wasn't a threat."

"Of course he's not," Lex replied. "He should be protected--they shouldn't have let him go out alone."

The Agent smiled without any real humor. "We didn't. He's not allowed to leave without a bodyguard. If you like I can check the duty log and see where he went."

Lex tipped his head to one side. "Isn't that against regulations?"

She shrugged and reached up to tap her Ear. He sensed a mental conversation going on--sometimes they spoke out loud, sometimes not. He didn't pretend to understand the system.

"I've got a location," she said after a moment. "Do you have a pen?"


*****

Silence in the conference room. The minutes ticked by.

Jason and Rowan faced each other across the table, both waiting.

Finally Jason asked, “How are you feeling?”

The Elf shook his head indefinitely. “What do you think she'll do?"

"I don't know. Technically she could have your badge."

"She won't do that."

"Probably not. But she can't just sweep it under the rug this time. The girl's death may not have been your fault, but your treatment of her during the interrogation was..."

"Inexcusable. I know." He ran a hand back through his hair. After a moment, he said uncertainly, "I'm afraid that the only way for me to get control of this is to give into it completely. Then who, or what, will I be?"

Before Jason could consider an answer to that—not that he hadn’t been wondering for weeks--the conference room door opened and Ness joined them, taking her usual seat at the table head.

"All right," she said, folding her hands. "After careful consideration of your service record, the current situation, and the incident in question, I've reached a decision. SA-5, you are suspended from duty indefinitely pending a full psychological and psychic review. Clearly you're too emotionally involved in the Blue Moon case--your behavior toward the suspect was in violation of every rule we have regarding interrogation protocol. I'm also concerned about your actions in the infirmary with SA-9; you saved her life, yes, but you displayed power we've never seen before. Until I'm confident that these new abilities of yours aren't dangerous, I won't allow you back into the field, much less within a mile of a witness or suspect. Do you have anything to say?"

"I understand," Rowan said, head bowed. "I'll cooperate fully with the staff in whatever ways you deem necessary."

"Good. SA-7, do you have anything to add?"

Jason gripped the edge of the table and kept his words as professional as possible. "Only that SA-5 has my full confidence."

He felt Rowan's eyes on him, and heard the Elf's gentle voice in his mind: [No, I don't. But I love you for saying so anyway.]

"Duly noted." Ness leveled a look on Jason, who bit his lip, then said to Rowan, "Badge, Ear, and gun, please, Agent."

Rowan stood and complied, sliding them across the table to Jason.

"Dismissed," Ness concluded shortly.

Rowan nodded and left the conference room, taking the left-hand turn, most likely back to their quarters.

"I'm sorry," Ness said once he was gone. "If he'd been anyone else I would have had his memory wiped and thrown him ass-first into the private sector."

"I know. I don't contest your decision, Ness. In fact I feel this is my fault--I should never have let him anywhere near Aradia. It's just...I expected him to act the way he would have before. Like himself. The way he treated her...it wasn't like him. I looked him in the face and didn't recognize him."

“I don’t know what we’re going to do, here, if he can’t get a handle on this. This Agency owes him a lot. After everything that’s happened, I don’t want to lose him.”

Jason didn’t look at her, but he said, “Neither do I.”


*****

St. Brigid's was a relatively new church, built with a combination of old world and modern American architecture. It wasn't as comfortable as the Winchester building with its gargoyles and turrets, but there was still something familiar about it, that faint edge of frankincense and the undeniable touch of...something...in the air.

Lex felt like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime as he walked into the sanctuary, but no one gave him so much as a second look; they were all here for their own reasons that afternoon.

He let his eyes adjust to the dim light, and took a deep breath, watching the light play over the stained glass panels that were set over the altar. He remembered staring at windows like them throughout his childhood, but those had been gruesome depictions of the death of Christ, each drop of blood lovingly set in red glass, a rictus of pain on the Savior's face.

This place was different, and he liked it. The windows showed scenes of Christ's life--letting the little children come unto Him, and feeding the multitudes. The center panel, where the usual crucifix was worked, showed a cross that was bare, a tomb that was empty. Lex smiled.

He lowered his eyes to the pews and saw a familiar dark head in an otherwise empty row.

It was hard to get his wings into the pew, but once he got the turn-and-slide right, he managed it with reasonable agility.

Joshua didn't look at him as he sat down, but the boy crossed himself.

Lex remained silent for a minute, listening to the quiet music: "Amazing Grace." His eyes roamed around the sanctuary, sizing it up automatically for danger, and he caught sight of another uniformed figure in the corner.

"It's an honor to see you again," Joshua said softly.

"You, too." Lex looked at him, seeing how exhausted he was, the shadows under his eyes. "You don't look well."

The boy smiled. "You sound surprised."

"How are you?"

"About as well as I look." Joshua fingered the hymnal in the rack in front of him. "This was always my favorite hymn, you know? I loved how joyful it felt to sing it. I used to love coming to church--a weird thing for a kid, isn't it. Most of the other kids just counted the minutes until benediction. I just wanted...I wanted grace."

"I understand."

"I prayed for years for God to make me His instrument. I wanted to help people--that's why I became a social worker, to try and love people the way Jesus would have. I wanted my life to have meaning and purpose, and I prayed...for years, I prayed, to be touched by God."

Joshua looked around the church as if he didn't recognize it, shook his head. "Now I don't know what I believe. The Seraph that came to me lied to me and said I was the Son of God. An angel tried to kill another angel in my name. And now that angel is dead and there's no one to lead me or protect me. What am I supposed to do now, Lex? Who am I, really?"

Lex sighed, folded his hands, and leaned his forearms on the back of the next pew. "You're Joshua," he answered simply. "Who do you want to be?"

"The Seraph said he was meant to protect me. Now he's dead. Who's trying to kill me, Lex? And why?"

"I think you can figure out the "why' pretty easily yourself. As for the who...we're working on that. There's some evidence there may be a connection between the sorcerer who summoned your Seraph and a group that's been plotting some very nasty things for the human race."

"The Jenai," Joshua affirmed with a nod. "Rowan's people. They want him back, and to do that they'll strike at everyone he loves...especially the baby. They don't want a Jenai born of human blood to pollute their line. But they can't afford to lose Rowan himself--without the Weaver, they'll never have the power to do what they want to do."

"What is it they want to do?" Lex asked.

Joshua leaned his forehead on the pew and closed his eyes. "Destroy humanity, of course," he sighed. "The firstborn Elves, children of the divine, want to cause mass slaughter of the people who mass slaughtered theirs. They see justice. All I see is more death."

"Me, too," Lex said. "I know Rowan feels the same way."

"What he doesn't realize is that now that the word is out about him being Jenai, and the Jenai being real, some Clans will side with him, and other Clans are going to cast their allegiance with the Sibyl. There may be a war before all is said and done--and that's not even half the problem. The rest is you, and the other Seraph. There are more and more rising. Why? What do they want? Who is calling them?"

Lex considered that. "Logic would suggest that the Seraph are the natural adversary of the Jenai--if the Jenai want the end of humanity, then the Seraph have been called to oppose them."

"Except for one thing," Joshua pointed out. "You were raised to protect the Singer, a Jenai. Does that mean not all of them are bent on destruction? And if so, why doesn't Rowan have one himself? He of all people needs protection in this."

"I don't have any answers...I wish I did."

"There's a lot of that going around," Joshua replied, sounding far older than his years. "Life was so much easier when I was Jesus."

"Are you so sure you aren't?"

"I don't know, Lex. I can feel something huge moving inside me, something that reaches out through me to heal and to see. I have these visions...every night when I try to sleep. The Agency people have taught me how to control it enough that I can come out to church without turning every meeting into a tent revival, but the power's still there. Whatever it is, it's big, and fearsome, even dark...and I'm so afraid."

They were silent for a while before Joshua said, "I wish I could go back. I wish none of this had ever happened."

Lex smiled a little. "Shall I go all Gandalf on you and feed you a line about destiny and doing the most with the time you're given?"

The boy rolled his eyes, but smiled back.

"It's getting late," Lex said. "I should get back to my aerie. Will you be all right?"

A shrug. "I guess. I've got Mulder or Scully or whatever his name is over there to get me back to my cage."

Lex took one of the church bulletins that was stuffed into the back of the pew and wrote his cell number on it, as well as his email address. "If you need me," he said, standing. "I'll see what I can find out snooping around the Agents. If they're not going to help us, we'll just have to figure this out for ourselves."

"Thank you, Lex," Joshua replied.

Lex was about to slide out of the pew, but one of the boy's hands darted out and grabbed his arm. When Lex looked back at him, there was a strange, faraway look on Joshua's young face, one that Lex knew, by instinct, not to ignore.

"She's coming for you," Joshua whispered. "Be ready."

Lex regarded him calmly. "Who is coming for me?"

"You and the Weaver both...you deny your true nature, and in doing so you condemn a thousand souls. Blood calls...blood calls to blood...she is coming for you..."

"Who? Tell me, Joshua. Who am I waiting for?"

Joshua looked up and met his eyes--but it wasn't really Joshua, it was whatever divine presence took hold of him and razed his life to the ground the way AIDS, Jason, and the Seraph had razed Lex's.

The boy spoke a single word, and then blinked. "What's wrong?"

"Um...nothing," Lex told him. "I...I was unsteady on my feet and you reached out to help me."

"Oh. Okay."

As Lex left the church, his heart hammering loudly in his ears, he dug in his pocket for his phone and stopped to lean against the stone wall carved with cherubim and the lives of the Saints.

Two rings, and a click: "Adams."

"Jason," Lex said. "I need your help."

The vampire sounded concerned--Lex never called, and no doubt he sounded as rattled as he felt. "What is it? Where are you? I can be there in--"

"No, no. I just need you to ask Rowan something for me."

Jason waited on the other end of the line, but his confusion was palpable, as was his worry.

"Ask him if he knows the word Astaerath."

Jason repeated the word carefully. Lex heard him muffle the phone and ask the question; hopefully Lex had caught them at home, not in the middle of a meeting or anything work-related.

A moment later Jason came back. "Rowan said it's Old Elvish."

"Does he know what it means?"

"Before the Dreaming Gate he wouldn't have, and it took him a minute to remember, but yeah, he does." Jason sounded edgy, and it didn't take long to understand why. "Astaerath are an elder race, or rather, a subset of an elder race."

"What do you mean, subset?"

"The Astaerath were a kind of Seraph, Lex. The word doesn't have a direct translation, but Rowan knew the gist."

"And? What does it mean?"

The vampire took a deep breath. "Archangel."