“I’m inclined to approve your request,” Ness said. “With the stipulation, of course, that the second your talents are required here we airlift you back. Are there any objections?”
She looked pointedly at Jason, who shook his head mutely without looking up.
“Very well, then. Let’s move forward on that. Rowan, you’ll contact Clan Willow and make sure this works for them?”
“Yes, ma’am. I have no doubt it will, but I’ll contact Sedna tonight anyway so they’re not all scared witless by the helicopter half a mile away.”
“Good. Nava, I’d like you to do an initial assessment of Sara this evening and send your baseline notes along with them to the Healers. Sara, after she’s done with that you should code off and get some rest. We’ll have transport ready for you at 0900 tomorrow morning.”
“Yes ma’am,” Sara said, mentally running down the list of things she’d need to pack and things she wouldn’t. Sage would be upset that she was leaving, but she’d be willing to take care of Pywacket and water the bedraggled pothos ivy on top of the TV.
“Adjourned, then. SA-7, I’ll need your updated disposition notes on the werewolf case tonight.”
“Um…yes ma’am,” Jason said vaguely. “I’ll get the latest from Beck and send it to you before I code off.”
Sara stood up, amazed at how tired she was just from the meeting, though her heart felt lighter than it had all day. She was inclined to agree with Jason that she wasn’t getting enough food or sleep—as soon as she got back from the infirmary she was going to get her things packed, take the hottest shower she could stand, order in some food, and fall over until morning.
Hopefully a month would be long enough for her to figure out what she was going to do.
*****
Beck found him in his office trying to plow through days’ worth of backlogged paperwork.
She leaned around the doorframe and said, without preamble, “No freaking way.”
Jason didn’t look up. “Bring me a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you about it.”
She returned a moment later and sat a steaming mug directly between him and the stack of notes he was reading. “You look like crap, you know,” she observed, leaning back in the chair opposite him and propping her booted feet up on the corner of his desk. “I hear I missed quite a show with you and Angel Boy earlier.”
“Oh?” he asked, taking a sip, still trying to pay attention to his work. “What else did you hear?”
“I believe the phrase was ‘banged him like a Tibetan temple gong.’”
Jason rolled his eyes. “Please.”
She pulled a long drink from her own travel mug, the one she always took with her on patrol, and said, “So Sara’s up the duff? For real?”
“For real.”
Beck snorted. “Poor kid. She gets to have morning sickness and labor pains and Nava up her ass for nine months all because Rowan had one sperm with a sense of direction. That’s shit for luck.”
Jason sighed and gave up, dropping the pages in his hand and putting his elbows on the desk. “Longer than nine months,” he corrected. “Somewhere between nine and twelve. They think.”
“This is crazy. Be glad you’re not a woman, I guess. Or that men can’t give birth through their—“
“Beck,” he cut her off, “I need to give Ness an update on the case tonight. Do you have anything constructive to add?”
“Oooh, testy,” she said. “If I hadn’t seen the video I might think you needed to get laid. I uploaded the surveillance photos and the latest disposition notes to your server. I need to know how you want me to proceed, or if you want me to hand it back.”
Jason pulled up the files she was talking about, evidence of an illegal werewolf fighting ring on the East Side, a combination of dogfighting and Fight Club. In human form werewolves were considered humans with all the attending rights and responsibilities under the law, but in wolf form they were unable to make contracts or give informed consent—that also meant that if they killed someone while in wolf form they were treated the same way a wild animal would be, and put down, without a trial. It seemed wrong, on a level, but the lycanthrope community had argued for years that when wolfed out they acted out of instinct to survive and were incapable of rational thought, so the government had held them to that. The cases had been contentious and there was festering anger on both sides, but it did produce the interesting side effect of getting lycanthropes involved in the animal rights movement.
“This looks good,” he said, paging through the slightly gritty images of the arena and the crowd placing their bets. “Did we get a decent picture of the leader?”
“Ruiz,” she replied. “We dug up records of purchases he made on medical supplies to patch up his fighters. The evidence isn’t as firm as I’d like but it should be enough to get a search warrant.”
“All right. Call Judge Hathaway and we’ll have it by midnight. Get your team together—I want Ruiz brought in himself this time.”
“You got it.”
Beck took the forms he handed her, signed them, and passed them back; he was adding notes to the digital file and emailing Ness to let her know they were updated when Beck asked, “So are you and Rowan breaking up?”
He looked up in alarm, heart clenching at the very thought. “Of course not.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You don’t sound too convinced.”
“He’s going on a research trip,” Jason said through gritted teeth. “And to take care of Sara while she decides whether to stay pregnant. It’s not drama, it’s work.”
“Right. So are you and the boy, like, together?”
“No.”
“But he’s in love with you.”
“I suppose.”
“And you’re shagging him.”
“Yes.”
“And you brought him across and brought him home with you and you want to keep him.”
“It’s not a matter of wanting to keep him,” he insisted. “He's not a puppy, Beck. Right now he needs me close by. Ness is looking for a place for him to stay that’s more comfortable for him, but regardless I’m still his sire. He’s going through a lot right now and I’m the only friend he has.”
“He’s going through a lot,” Beck repeated. “Unlike, say, your partner.”
He tried not to set his coffee cup down hard the way he had in the conference room, but it sounded a little vehement anyway, as did his voice. “Are you suggesting I’ve been neglecting Rowan for Lex?”
“No,” Beck replied. “I’m basically saying it outright. I mean, yeah, you need to see the boy and all, but in case you haven’t noticed Rowan’s dealing with some shit too. Since he’s been back in Austin how much time have you spent with him?”
“I’ve been busy, Beck. I’ve had to catch up on all my work, and plus I was under quarantine the first day he was back, and—“
“Right.” Beck continued to drink her coffee, casually, the relaxed tone never leaving her words even as he grew agitated. “I’m just saying, maybe you ought to remember that everybody’s got a breaking point. Finding out you’re a demigod and you’ve just knocked up your best friend right after your partner decides to create himself a new boyfriend kind of rates up there on the stress scale.”
“I did not—“
“Sure. Fine.” She shrugged. “Call it what you want. But that’s how it looks from over here, and I’m not the only one saying so.”
“First of all, it’s none of your goddamned business or anyone else’s,” he snapped. “Second of all, it’s not like Rowan’s been faithful this past year—aside from Sara he’s had half of Clan Willow. He doesn’t expect me to be monogamous any more than I expect him to.”
“Hmm.” Beck tilted her head to one side. “Funny how you just said ‘faithful.’ That’s a word that implies morality, as if anything else is breaking some kind of vow. So you think of it as him being unfaithful?”
God, he hated it when she acted like a psychologist. “Don’t.”
With that, she sauntered out of his office, heedless of the turmoil she might have left in her wake.
Jason pushed his coffee cup aside, no longer able to taste it, and leaned his head on his hands for a moment.
He hated it when Beck acted like a psychologist, but he hated it even more when she was right—he’d been dawdling for over an hour when he should have been in their quarters making sure everything was all right between him and the Elf. But in truth, he was afraid it wasn’t—no, he knew it wasn’t. He’d seen it in the conference room. Rowan had claimed to be fine with the Seraph’s presence, but was anyone really that rational? It wasn’t like Rowan to decide to disappear for a month without discussing it with Jason first. They had barely been apart before now.
Yes, he hated it when she was right, and moreso because she had a tendency to appear out of nowhere, drop a Yoda moment on him, then vanish again, without ever seeming to go through half the angst he did about...well, anything. Sometimes it marveled them both that they were related, much less twins. Then sometimes they were so alike it amazed them that anyone ever doubted it.
He forced himself up out of his chair and locked his office, coding off shift; it wasn’t as though they wouldn’t know where to find him in an emergency.
Jason half expected to find the apartment empty, with Rowan up at Sara’s quarters checking in on her, but he heard movement beyond the living room and called out, “Anyone home?”
“Back here.”
Rowan was in his room, packing, rolling up clothes to stuff into a duffel bag; he probably wouldn’t need a lot of civilian gear, but he was taking his favorite robes with him and a couple of changes of jeans and so forth just in case. Jason stood in the doorway watching him for a moment, unspeaking, and the silence hung between them.
Finally, Rowan turned away, taking the silver cup from his altar, and held it in his hands a moment before saying quietly, “This isn't just about Sara. I need some space, Jason.”
Jason swallowed his fear. “I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do,” the Elf said reasonably, turning to face him. His eyes were bright and full of pain. “This whole relationship thing…it’s not natural for me. I thought I was doing all right, but I can’t help it—I’m still angry with you for bringing the Seraph into our lives. I don’t care if it’s part of some grand mystical plot to save the universe. I feel like I’ve been betrayed, even though I know we never said we were exclusive, and I never have been. I don't like feeling this way, but I do. It just…it’s different. You love the Seraph, even if you’ll never admit it. And the two of you have something that you and I can’t share. Believe me, I’ve felt it—I felt it all afternoon.”
Jason groped for the doorframe, gripping it tightly. “I…I didn’t know you could feel that.”
“Neither did I. But still, technically you didn’t do anything wrong. Neither have I. But you and I, and this life I’m living, I just…I don’t know how to reconcile who I am with what I’m supposed to be, and what you want from me, and what I have to give. Add to that the possibility I might be something else entirely from what I knew, and…I just need answers. And I need some time to think, and I can't do it here.”
Jason took a deep breath, staring at him, trying to find words. “You're...you're leaving me?"
Rowan looked up quickly, genuine shock on his face at the despair in Jason's voice, and his expression changed, softened. "No, of course not," he said, dropping the cup in his bag and coming over to Jason, placing one hand gently on each side of the vampire's face and forcing their eyes to meet. "I love you. I'm not going to give up on us just because things have gotten hard. I need to get away, is all, and sort myself out. There are things that being with you has brought out in me, and things happening, that I need to understand." He smiled and kissed Jason on the lips, then on the forehead. "I would never, never willingly leave you. Remember? Not even getting blown up could keep me from you for long."
Jason felt the agony in his heart loosen a little. He sighed, winding his arms around Rowan, and they held onto each other tightly. He wanted more than anything to beg the Elf not to go, but he knew that it wouldn't work, and would also be a mistake; as much as it hurt, he had to give Rowan what he needed. He owed him that, and so much more.
"I love you so much," Jason murmured into the Elf's hair. "You're my always."
"And you, mine."
“Let’s make a pact,” Jason told Rowan, guiding him over to the bed. “Neither of us sleeps with anyone new while you’re gone, and when you get back, whatever conclusions you come to, we talk about everything. A lot. Right away, before any resentment can build up or anything else can go wrong.”
“Deal,” Rowan replied.
Jason sat down on the bed and urged him onto his back, running a hand down over the landscape of his torso, wondering how he was going to survive for four weeks without him. “You’re leaving in the morning?”
“Yes. 0900."
Jason let out a breath he'd been unconsciously holding and leaned down to kiss Rowan's ear, saying, "I guess I have my work cut out for me, then."
Rowan's breathing was shallow and his voice unsteady--doing anything to his ears was like nibbling on a vampire's neck, an instant turn-on that made it difficult to think or speak. "How so?"
Jason nuzzled his earlobe, then moved around to kiss him on the lips. "That means I have until morning to make absolutely sure you'll miss me...every second...of every day you're gone."
A quiet, warm chuckle into his shoulder. “I would say that I’ll miss you anyway, but maybe we’d better make sure.”
Now, it was Jason's turn to smile, and say, "Deal."
*****
The van pulled out of the Agency garage promptly at 0900 the following morning, and Rowan watched the door lower behind them, blocking out the last view he had of his amori standing at the loading dock watching him leave.
A hand squeezed his. "You're doing the right thing," Sara said gently. "And I don't just mean that because I'm scared shitless and want you with me."
"I know," Rowan said, swallowing the knot in his throat. "It just feels like goodbye, is all. I don't know if either of us can deal with losing each other again."
"You're not," she said with conviction. "I know everything's changing. God, do I know it. But you two--what you've got isn't going anywhere. Think about it, sweetie--a refugee Elf is rescued by a hot-as-hell vampire, then years later they meet again and just happen to be perfect for each other even though they're at opposite ends of the food chain, among other things, and they survive death and explosions and amnesia and find each other against all sorts of odds. Do you think that happens every day?"
He smiled a little. "I guess it doesn't. Of course, a lot of impossible things seem to be happening these days."
Sara nodded, and one of her hands drifted down to her stomach, as if it didn't know where to go. She seemed a lot less anxious that morning, and a lot less overwhelmed; he'd seen the open relief on her face the night before at the meeting, and was thankful that the idea of taking her away had come to him. As long as she could rest and have a bit of peace, this would be good for her...and, he hoped, for him too.
The hardest part would be trying to keep the others from influencing her to keep the baby; he had a suspicion that she would give birth, but too many opinions would only drown out her own voice, and given the risks he wanted her to be sure.
The van merged onto the highway, and Rowan leaned his head on the seat, knowing with the certainty of centuries that when he returned to Austin--and he
would, he was sure of that too--everything would be different, profoundly so, and he could either fight it and lose everything, or walk into it with open arms and accept whatever came. There had been so much pain in his life, but now there was so much that was beautiful, so much he wanted to hold onto...and to hold onto it, he had to let go of everything else.
Open arms, then, and acceptance. It was the only way.
But he didn't have to like it.
Sara leaned on his shoulder, dozing off, and he rested his head against hers, watching the cityscape of Austin fade into the rolling landscape of the Hill Country, carrying them mile after mile into whatever was to come.
The Agency, Volume III Page 17
