For their part the Adams Agents had not bothered concealing their arsenals; even with Beck's multicolor hair the two of them together were an impressive, and disturbing, pair.
"This way," Rowan said, inclining his head toward the gardens.
Jason fell into step beside him, his gaze darting around and sizing up the place instantly. "I'm not sure I like this. There are a lot of hiding places."
"Yes, and we have Agents in most of them. But this ground is sacred—generations of Witches have practiced here. The delegation will feel it and it will put them at ease. If we can avoid any tension, so much the better."
"And this show of power you're going for—that's supposed to relax them?"
"It's supposed to let them know whose territory they're on," Rowan replied sharply. "Don't tell me you're suddenly against the idea of being intimidating, in that getup."
Jason smiled. "You're one to talk." As they reached the open area paved with stones in among the koi ponds, Jason grasped Rowan's hand just for a second and placed it on the gun he had strapped to his right hip.
Rowan looked down and made a noise halfway between a groan and a laugh. "Did you have to bring that one?"
"Of course. It's your favorite." With that, Jason took position behind him and to his right, with the gun—Vera—on obvious display. Beck stood on the left, and nodded to one of the additional Agents, who was at the house; he threw a switch and a floodlight came on, pointed indirectly across the garden so it was easy to see by but not blinding.
"We're in position," Rowan heard Jason say quietly, the sentence echoing telepathically over his Ear.
Minutes ticked by, the night deepening, the cicada song and crickets almost deafening. In the distance a dog barked and plane flew overhead.
"Greetings," came a voice. "Blessings upon you this night."
Rowan turned toward the sound and bowed. "And upon you."
As one, the delegation stepped out from the shadows, and Rowan heard Beck's indrawn breath at the spectacle before them.
Five Elves, one in front and four behind just like the Agency team, approached, the leader definitely Sedna. Her white hair and silver eyes were luminous in the darkness, amplified by the flowing pale blue robes she wore trailing down to the ground. She was as slender and graceful as a doe, and to a human would appear no more than twenty.
Her companions…there, even Rowan was shocked. They were not in traditional Elven garb of robes and cloaks, but in warrior's clothing—fitted close to the body, in dark forest colors that would blend into the shadows and the trees. All four were armed…and not just with blades.
A cold pool of dread formed in Rowan's stomach. "Good evening, Sedna and representatives of Clan Yew," he said, stepping forward. "I trust you had a safe journey to Texas."
Sedna nodded once, graciously, and again he felt the mad urge to slap her. Had his people always been condescending, or was this new, like the guns? Were they changing, or had he, or both?
"We wish to see the child," Sedna said, her tone very clearly a command.
"You will. First I would like to meet your fellow delegates."
"These are my bodyguards. You can understand, of course, why in this day and age I would be cautious meeting with a group of humans…or whatever these are."
Rowan smiled. "Vampires."
Sedna blanched visibly, and he had the pleasure of seeing her flabbergasted. "I…I see. This Agency of yours has extremely permissive hiring practices, it would seem."
Time to cut to the chase, he decided. "Our child custody practices are not so permissive, Sedna. We are still searching for her father, and even though I would like to have Elora among a Clan where she’ll feel more comfortable than at the base, I'm not turning Elora over to you until I'm sure she will be safe and that this Clan of yours is legitimate and a good home for her."
Sedna looked about ready to say something derogatory about either Rowan or the SA, but thought better of it and glanced back at her guards. "Very well, then, I shall introduce them to you, if you will do the same."
"Of course."
Rowan turned his attention to the guards—three male and one female, all of them dangerous looking…and all of them with short-cropped white hair. He'd never seen anything like it; Elves, all of them, let their hair grow long, at least to the shoulders. Even the warriors did so. Elves in general had similar features, but with the short hair the four were virtually indistinguishable, though after a moment differences began to emerge that he doubted the others of his party could discern.
He was so unused to looking at his own people that their uniform beauty seemed almost boring. Humans had a splendid variety of faces and shapes. He hadn't been joking, months ago, when he'd told Sara he preferred the women of her race to his own. Looking at the Elven guardswoman before him, he could say she was beautiful, but…
He stared, mouth going dry.
The guardswoman came forward first to be introduced, and when she got a good look at him, she, too, froze.
"It can't be," he whispered. Behind him he felt the Agents tense, Jason's hand twitching toward Vera at the shock in Rowan's voice.
The Elven woman stared back at him, a thousand emotions passing over her face. Sedna, who was about to speak, paused mid-word at the look on their faces, and looked from her guard to Rowan and back again several times, mouth dropping open.
"Well," Sedna stammered, "at least now we know who you really are, Agent."
The guardswoman met his eyes. "Hello, Father."
Part Seven
Jason stood silently watching the Elves settle into the guest quarters, noticing that the guards were as wary as he was, visually cataloging everything in the modest sitting room as a potential threat. Sedna had dismissed the entire place with a slight curl of her upper lip that made her look surprisingly unattractive for an Elf.
He had decided, between Mayfield and the base, that he didn’t like her. In fact to be honest he didn’t like any of them—the judgment was handed down swift and sure by his subconscious, and he had long ago learned to trust that voice, even when it flew in the face of all logic. This time logic agreed. These people, whatever they were, were nothing like the Elves Rowan had described in the memories of his people. They were something different, perhaps something new, and Jason didn’t like it at all.
Sedna especially pissed him off. She was condescending and cold, and treated Rowan like a second-class citizen even though she clearly understood this was his territory. She demanded to see Elora, and was refused; she made backhanded compliments about the base and the Agency with her disdain so thinly veiled he could practically smell it. She was either treated like the second coming by Elvenkind or she was just a complete bitch, and he had his theories on which of the two it was.
SA-7 had a sinking feeling that this whole affair was going to go badly. The way the Elves reacted when forced to give up their guns in the base only seemed to back up that feeling.
He surreptitiously tapped his Ear and told Sage, [I want a guard posted in front of this door at all times. And reprogram the hallway security camera to a two-second delay instead of a six. If anyone goes in or comes out of this place I want to know about it.]
[Yes, sir,] she said without comment, which told him Sage didn’t like it either.
“If I may ask,” Sedna said, bringing his attention back to their guests, “Why must our meeting with the child wait until tomorrow evening? I do not understand why the Agency does everything under cover of darkness.”
Jason smiled. “Well, Ms…what term of address would you prefer?”
She seemed taken aback that he bothered to ask, but protocol was protocol. “I am an Elder of the Clan Yew Governing Council; 'Councilor' will suffice.”
“Very well, Councilor. Most of our senior Agents are nocturnal, as are many of the creatures and people we deal with in our work. Activity goes on at the base at all hours, however.”
She sniffed. “I have never heard of such a thing—a nocturnal Elf.”
<
br /> “And I have never heard of Elves carrying guns, so it’s been a big day for us both, hasn’t it.”
She glared at him but went back to her unpacking.
Strangely, the guards seemed more accepting of his presence. One of them, a male, even shot him an appraising look that he was well aware had nothing to do with the mission. He’d returned it with a raised eyebrow, and the guard looked away quickly, biting his lip.
So they weren’t made of stone; that was good, if not exactly comforting.
“When will my fourth guard be returned to me?” Sedna asked.
“As soon as she and SA-5 are finished talking. I imagine they have a lot of catching up to do.”
The way she referred to Kaeli, she must think of the others about as highly as she thought of Rowan himself—she treated them dismissively, almost as property. She probably thought of Elora as a prize she was tasked with winning.
His dislike was coming dangerously close to outright hatred by now.
“What provisions have been made for our nourishment?”
He gave Sedna another smile. “Your meals will be catered here in your quarters. Food Service is accustomed to caring for Elves, so I’m sure you’ll find our provisions adequate.”
She looked doubtful, but nodded. “Good. We would prefer not to…mix company…while we are here. I hope that Elora has been kept isolated from outside influences as well.”
“Actually, Councilor, she’s been making a lot of friends among the children here. She’s quite a charmer. We’re all very fond of her.”
The Elf stared at him, mouth working silently, trying to figure out what to say to that. Finally she managed, “I would have hoped that the Agency would understand her importance enough to provide her with more suitable companionship, but if Elves here are willing to accept the presence of the undead, I suppose I cannot expect much.”
Jason stepped forward, coming to stand directly in front of her, and looked down at her, schooling his expression carefully into neutrality. “Councilor, I will remind you of two things: one, you are a guest here. Two, if you continue to insult either myself or Rowan, you will find yourself tossed out of this facility on your divine immortal ass.”
Her nostrils flared; again, not attractive. “I doubt, Agent, that you have the authority to issue such threats against a visiting dignitary, let alone the capability of carrying them out.”
He gave her a predator’s smile and had the satisfaction of seeing her pale a shade. “I am second in command of this entire branch,” he informed her. “I was also the Agent who found that child in a building full of corpses and the stench of decay. You will show this Agency and its representatives the appropriate respect or you will find out exactly what I am capable of.”
With that, he walked out of the apartment, adding, “Please feel free to call Housekeeping or Food Service at any time if you have needs. SA-5 will come to collect you tomorrow at sunset. Enjoy your stay.”
He didn’t look back to see the expression on Sedna’s face, but it was probably priceless.
*****
“I searched for you,” Rowan said, keeping both hands around his cup of tea to stop himself from reaching out to touch Kaeli and prove to himself she was really there. “As soon as I was able I put the word out, but heard nothing.”
She had refused offers of food and drink, and simply sat there, sometimes looking at him, sometimes staring around at the lounge. There were only three or four other people there, on the far side of the room, but she was clearly uncomfortable being around humans at any proximity.
When she didn’t reply, he asked, “How did you survive?”
“I ran,” she said simply. “There were about six of us who escaped and hid up in the trees. When the raid was finally over and the enemy gone, we came down. We lived in the ruins for a week before Clan Yew found us and took us in. I’ve been with them ever since.”
“Did you see…what happened to your mothers?”
“Dead,” Kaeli replied, her tone emotionless, or perhaps simply holding back too much. “I saw it…the only one who even survived the battle was Olisa, and they took her away. We found out later she died of her injuries before she could be sold.”
“God.” Rowan closed his eyes, thinking of Olisa’s spiced-wine laughter, the swing of her summer-toned hair. She had been a powerful healer and beloved of the entire Clan, as had her child, who sat before him now shaven and hard, armed.
“Why did you cut your hair?” he asked.
She countered with a question of her own. “Why did you change your name?”
He smiled a little. “You first.”
“It’s standard uniform for warriors in Clan Yew. Over half the Clan is made up of warriors—we won’t repeat the mistakes of the past and be caught unawares by the enemy.”
“And that’s why you carry guns?”
“Swords don’t do much good anymore. The elegance and mystery of the past is gone now—we have to survive however we can. If that means using these barbaric weapons, so be it. We’ve been trying to convince the remaining Clans to do the same before it’s too late, but they don’t listen.”
“Elves have never loved change,” he observed. “We want everything to be as timeless as we are. Everything is tradition and history.”
Kaeli nodded. “That’s what we’re trying to do—preserve that history. Preserve the bloodline. We’re a dying race, Father. You know that.”
“I do,” he agreed softly, staring into his tea. “I hear there are only seven intact Clans remaining.”
“Six, now that Birch has fallen.”
“How many are there in Clan Yew?”
“Thirty-seven. Only five children and no more on the way.”
“So Sedna wants Elora to make it six.”
Kaeli’s face darkened. “She should be with her people. Not living underground amongst the animals that killed her entire family.”
Rowan sat back, surprised at the anger in her voice. “The people here didn’t kill any of us. In the United States the Agency has rescued twenty-two Elves from slave traders, black magicians, whorehouses. Not all humans are evil just because some are.”
“They may not all be evil in the same way, but human beings are a blight upon this planet. They’ve destroyed everything our people worked for millennia to preserve. They consume every resource, kill every species they come in contact with, terrorize one another and any other race that’s different—“
“They’re young,” he said. “They’re young, and they’re afraid. But they aren’t all bad. Aside from those who attacked us you’ve never even met a human, much less known one personally. How can you judge their entire species?”
“I know enough. I’ve seen enough. I don’t need to know any more.” She stared at him as if he were a stranger, or a madman. “If you had seen the death and heard all the stories from the refugees who were tortured by those creatures, you wouldn’t be so quick to defend them.”
“Is that so?” Rowan smiled sadly, unbuttoning the sleeve of his shirt and pulling it up so she could see the scars on his wrist. “Do you know what this is from?”
She actually gasped at the ugly white and pink lines in his flesh, and after a moment said very quietly, “A neural toxicity implant. The kind they use in the slave trade.”
“That’s right. Your mother was lucky, Kaeli. It may sound cruel to say so, but she was, if she died before they could do this to her. For twenty years I was sold from one master to another, used and tortured and poisoned, my training turned against me. The Shadow Agency rescued me, nursed me back to health, and gave me a purpose again. Because of the men who did this I was celibate for over a decade until I met someone—a human—who helped me recover, and now I can finally go out in public, live my life, and love…yes, love, even after everything.”
There was shock and disgust in Kaeli’s voice as she asked, “You have a human lover?”
“Yes, I do. She’s a dear friend. And she isn’t the only one, although my o
ther lover…my beloved…is not a human.”
She didn’t look like she wanted to know any more, but she said, “I thought you were the only Elf here.”
“I am.” He decided to use the word even though Jason would probably kill him for it—he wanted to make a point, and the only way to do it was to be as shocking as possible. “My amori, SA-7, is a vampire. He was with me in the park.”
Kaeli put her head in her hands, unable to look at him any longer. “I cannot believe this.”
He sighed and took a sip of his now-cold tea, his heart heavy in his chest. “I understand how you feel, Daughter, but I’ve made my choices.”
“We all wondered,” she said softly. “We know the identity of every Elf working with these people, but no one could figure out who you were. If you’ve renounced even your name, then that means you’re dead, doesn’t it?”
The Agency, Volume II Page 12
