The Agency, Volume III Page 18

Last Dance

  The oldest skyscraper in Austin was the Winchester Bank Building, whose cornerstone read 1911. It had since been dwarfed by the towers around it, and almost destroyed to pave the way for construction of the Frost Bank tower, but the city's historical preservationists lobbied hard and long and got the new bank moved several blocks to keep the Winchester safe from the wrecking ball.

  It stood far shorter than its neighbors, hiding among them like a girl embarrassed to be seen in a thrift store prom dress, its edifice weathered and grey and unglamorous. Even the gargoyles that perched atop it, covered in pigeon shit and the solidified pollution of a growing city, were largely forgotten by the tour guides and writers who devoted long poetic rants to or against the Austin skyline. Austin was a hip, modern city, and the Winchester building was a lumbering anachronism without so much as a ground-floor Starbucks to liven up its dreary architecture.

  It was, of course, no longer a bank; Winchester had gone under, merged with a company that merged with a company that was swallowed whole by Washington Mutual which then went under, but long before 2008 the tower itself had been sold to the city, then to the state, and was now a government building devoted to managing the long paper trails of several agencies, funds, and associations.

  None of the building's 200-plus employees was sure whose offices were on the top floor, and nobody ever really asked. The only access was via a special freight elevator, with a special key card and combination, and the few people who chanced across the security system were baffled by the technology and soon forgot it was even there.

  If no one knew what the top floor was used for, they had no idea that anything even existed on the roof; the pseudogothic spires and gargoyles looked impassable, almost like a matte background painting from Ghostbusters. But hidden among the angles and niches was a single flat plane, about six feet by six feet, with a catwalk connecting to the interior access door that led down to the freight elevator; beyond the flat was another door, a rusted wrought iron gate that led into an unknown darkness. A few steps too far to the side would lead to a low wall with a concrete ledge, then a long fall fifteen stories to 11th Street.

  It was from that ledge that the Seraph watched the dusk fall every night, and the dawn arise every morning, inclining his head to the left or the right, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chin as still as a statue, listening, waiting.

  It was in his nature to be silent, so silent that the birds landed inches from his wings and paid him no mind. It was in his nature to watch and listen...and to wait.

  On the ground the city went about its business, the cacophony of sirens and car horns blending together at this distance until it almost seemed to have a rhythm. His vision was acute enough to discern details on the people walking by 220 feet below him, and snatches of conversation drifted up to his ears. The smells of engine exhaust, grease, coffee, and the growing Summer were sharp and distinct. He could taste rain three days away.

  Evening settled in with a groan and a sigh, the first stars appearing, but he stayed where he was until he heard the mechanical whirring of the elevator behind him and the beep of the lock opening. There was a swish of fabric--a coat--and the assorted small sounds of leather, firearms, and heavy boots.

  "I wish you wouldn't sit up there like that. It makes me nervous."

  Lex looked back over his shoulder, regarding the vampire who stood with his back pressed against the wall, determinedly avoiding the view. "Are you afraid I'll fall?"

  "Just come down. Please."

  The Seraph smiled and stood, paying no mind to either the height or his nearness to the edge, and hooked his wings. The pigeon that had been keeping him company made an irritated noise and fluttered off.

  Lex stepped down from the ledge, and Jason visibly relaxed. For an immortal as strong and seemingly invincible as Jason, he had odd fears--heights and deep water, which made transatlantic flights essentially impossible for him even without considering the sun. Apparently such phobias were common among normal vampires, if such a distinction existed.

  They stood facing each other. The vampire was dressed for work, as always, in standard Agency black and, Lex knew from removing them in the past, four guns, three knives, an Ear, an iPhone, and a kit in the interior pocket of his coat with evidence-gathering materials. He looked every inch as dangerous as he was. Lex had never seen him fight, but he had felt the hard muscles beneath that black shirt, and knew the dexterity of those hands. He had no doubt that SA-7's

  fearsome reputation was well earned.

  Lex's hands ached to reach out to his sire, but he was wary of initiating contact now. He knew how badly Jason's relationship with Rowan had been strained lately, and how conflicted Jason was about him. He couldn't bear to make things worse...but it hurt, god it hurt, not to touch him. It had been two days since they'd seen each other and a week since anything else.

  "How are you?" Jason finally asked.

  "All right. Why don't we go inside?"

  "Good idea."

  Lex led him in through the iron gate, into what should have been a bare chamber but was in fact a small but comfortable apartment; it was the only place the Agency had been able to come up with that suited him, though when he'd asked who lived there before, no answer had been forthcoming. He didn't press. He wasn't an Agent, he was a guest living by the grace of his sire; his position was precarious at best.

  He wondered, though, if the place had been designed with a Seraph or something similar in mind. The bathroom was strangely large but sparse, with a showerhead and no tub, room enough to open his wings partway. There was no kitchen, but they had installed a small fridge and microwave for his blood, and a pricey computer system that also served as an entertainment center. That, he knew, was so they could keep tabs on him; he was required to check in every night. As long as he stayed out of sight and didn't cause any trouble, they didn't demand him to wear a monitoring device, but the idea had come up more than once. So far he'd been on his best behavior.

  Lex had to admit he was surprisingly at home. He had been here a little over a week, and though once it would have been far too drafty and too lonely for him, now he reveled in the freedom. Living underground in the base while the humans tried to figure him out had been suffocating.

  Humans. He held back a shudder at the feeling of alienation the word brought up. He tried very hard not to think about the fact that he was no longer human. He tried to simply let it go and embrace reality...but there were nights when reality was terrifying, when lying alone in his bed he shook and wept, and his longing for his sire was the worst part.

  Jason took the single chair, strictly for guests; regular human furniture was uncomfortable for Lex now, so he stuck to his nest. He sat down on the edge of what had started life as several futon mattresses and a mountain of pillows and blankets, with curtains that tied back to keep out the sunlight.

  He shared a vampire's appetites, but in other ways he was very different--the sun, for example, didn't burn him. Aside from causing him headaches the day was not his enemy. Being an ivory-skinned, winged creature, however, made it difficult to get around in the waking world, and he vastly preferred the night when he could move about the city unseen.

  Lex let his wings spread out on the bed, and he felt Jason's eyes on him. He knew what the vampire was thinking about, and looking up to meet his gaze it was even more obvious.

  "How are you?" Lex asked. He wasn't going to ask anything else. Not yet. "I didn't expect to see you so early tonight."

  A shrug. "I was supposed to go on a drug raid, but our intel fell through. I had time."

  Lex smiled, trying not to be coy. "How much time do you have?"

  Jason's jaw tightened and he stood up abruptly, facing the door. "Lex..."

  "I know," he said softly. "I've been expecting it."

  Jason turned to him, arms crossed over his chest. "What?"

  "For you to say you can't see me anymore. I understand. I never meant to cause you any pain."

 
; They held each other's eyes for a long moment before Jason said, "Don't blame yourself. This is all my fault."

  "For saving my life?" Lex looked down. "I'm sorry you regret it."

  "No, I don't...I'm saying everything wrong. I don't regret saving you. I just regret being so thoughtless--I'm the one who hurt people, not you. I hurt you, and I hurt Rowan, and I don't want to keep doing either, but..."

  "Rowan comes first," Lex said, nodding. "I know. That's as it should be, Jason."

  When the vampire said nothing, Lex added, "You must miss him."

  Jason shut his eyes, and there was raw honesty in his voice that Lex wasn't expecting. "Like my arm," he said. "Like my soul. The past ten days have felt like an eternity. I thought it would be easier, knowing he's safe and well and not thinking he's dead, but I can't work enough or drink enough to fill the hole."

  Now Lex closed his eyes, feeling Jason's pain all too well, as well as a deep mourning, realizing that the vampire would never miss him that much, would never long for him as he did for Jason, and that the best Lex could hope for was a night here and there, his heart broken over and over. Yes, it had to end.

  Whatever he was here for, it wasn't this.

  He looked up at Jason, who was staring at him, and it was clear his thoughts had been heard. "I'm sorry," Jason said. There was grief in his voice.

  "So am I."

  Jason came over to him, standing over him, one hand reaching out to touch his face hesitantly. Lex leaned into the contact and asked, "Am I strong enough to be without you now?"

  "Yes. You have been since you moved here. If you weren't, you wouldn't have been able to stand being away from me this long--you would have beaten down the door to the base and torn the town apart to find me. You've grown very strong...I'm proud of you."

  Lex felt tears come to his eyes at the benediction. It would be best, they both knew, if Jason left right now, but they also both knew that words alone were an inadequate farewell.

  "Will you give me one more night?" Lex asked.

  Silently, he nodded.

  Lex stood, Jason taking a step back, holding eye contact a minute longer before the Seraph lifted his hands and gently, reverently, lifted the coat from the Agent's shoulders. He hung the garment on a hook drilled into the concrete wall, then set to removing weapons: the twin guns hanging from his belt; a long curved blade with Elvish carving; the sidearm and knife strapped across his chest. Everything went in a neat row on the table by the bed. Next, Lex untucked his shirt, sliding his hands beneath it and lifting the fabric up along the perfectly sculpted lines of Jason's torso. The warmth of his palms made the vampire shiver slightly, and his eyes fell shut, simply letting Lex undress him.

  Shirt, draped over the back of the chair. Lex trailed his nails over Jason's shoulders and down his arms, then around to unbuckle his heavily laden belt, its various gadgets and ammunition still attached. He could have left them there, but a strange sense of formality had overcome him, and he removed the Ear, then the phone, then the extra clips for each gun as he had the guns and their holsters, and laid them with the weapons, then with the belt itself.

  Slowly Lex knelt in front of him, reaching down and painstakingly unlacing first one boot, then the other. It took a while--they went up to his knees--but there was no urgency in Lex's movements, only a wish to memorize every detail.

  There was a knife sheathed in one boot, a pistol in the other. It seemed like it would be rather uncomfortable, but he was fairly certain that traveling armed made Jason feel more like himself, and safer; strange to think a gun could be a security blanket. Lex added them to the pile on the table and returned to the ground, running his hands around one calf, stripping the sock, then the other.

  He had to smile--his attentions were having an effect on his sire, who was watching him through eyes ringed with silver. Lex leaned forward and kissed his hardening cock through his uniform, earning a hitched sound that made him smile even more.

  Even with the wind buffeting the building all around them outside, the metallic shimmering sound of the zipper was audible. Lex guided the last two layers of fabric down over the vampire's hips, resisting the urge to playfully squeeze his ass on the way, and when Jason obligingly stepped to the side to allow him to remove the garments, he tossed them away, no longer feeling quite so formal at the sight of the Agent, so beautiful and perfect, bare before him.

  Fingers wound in his hair, but didn't urge him forward. Lex looked up and met his eyes, and Jason smiled at him a little, a smile tinged with sadness as much as desire.

  Lex sighed as he bowed his head and sucked him in deep, a tortured gasp reaching him from a distance. Jason's body rocked backwards slightly, then he braced himself and relaxed, his breath coming out in half groans. Lex wound a hand up around his waist to hold him steady, the other pressing flat against his thigh.

  I love you...I love you...the thoughts as well as the emotions flowed out of the Seraph against his will, the familiar taste of Jason's skin and the smell of arousal forcing out everything else in the world. Lex knew his knees would be bruised from the concrete floor, but he didn't care; there was nothing else, nothing but the shaft in his mouth and the knowledge of never again.

  He ran his tongue up and down, letting the barest tips of his teeth touch, enough to be felt but not to cause pain. I love you.

  Lex lifted his eyes again, and they held each other's gaze, the ring of silver widening and widening, nails digging into scalp and thigh, electricity rising between them and spinning, around and around, until the vampire shuddered, a cry that was half a sob wrung from his throat.

  Lex was weeping silently as he swallowed. I love you.

  He put his face in his hands and bent until his forehead was nearly touching the floor. A moment later, he felt arms moving around him, and he buried his head in

  Jason's sweaty shoulder, the sweet-salty taste that still clung to his tongue turning bitter as he wept.

  "Shh..." Jason's touch was remarkably gentle, lifting the edge of Lex's shirt to wipe his eyes. "Don't cry, my darling. Don't cry."

  Lex let Jason guide him up into the nest, holding the Seraph as if he were fragile, his deft fingers untying the sides of the tunic that the people at the Agency had come up with to clothe him in. They had to slit everything to accommodate his wings, and design with odd proportions; his shoulder and upper arm muscles were bulkier than any other on his body, the rest of which was as slender as an Elf's.

  Jason did as Lex had done, and undressed him slowly, but the process was much shorter this time, as Lex wore only the tunic and a pair of pants, both in dark grey. He had boots, and other clothes, but he very rarely felt the cold; he went barefoot on the concrete floors of the apartment, even before they'd brought him a rug to make the prison-cell ambiance a bit more homey.

  Jason ran his hands over the sensitive inside of Lex's wings, causing the Seraph to tremble; the extra nerves were to help sense changes in the atmosphere, but were as much an erogenous zone as the vampire's neck. Jason lifted one wing gingerly, draping it over his bare hip, wrapping them both in it so they lay face to face in the warmth of the nest.

  "You're so beautiful," Jason murmured. They kissed, deeply, and Lex felt some of his sorrow lift, just for a little while, yielding to the pressure of his sire's hip parting his legs, his hand stroking, silken lips dancing over his throat. Their bodies wound around each other in the cocoon of Lex's wings, pleasure drawing a sound from the Seraph that was very similar to a cat purring. There was so much he didn't understand about himself, and he had no idea how to control the vibration in his chest that happened of its own accord on those rare instances when he was genuinely content. All of those moments had been with Jason. He feared there would never be another after tonight.

  He gave himself up to the need building in his body, twisting to reverse their positions, looking down at Jason, who looked up at him with a smile. They hadn't even known each other for a full month, but they both knew what was next.

&nbs
p; Jason traced the line of Lex's mouth first with his fingers, then with his tongue, then smiled again and turned over.

  Lex thought back to the last time they'd had sex in the Agency base, just before Rowan had left. They had torn into each other like animals, bleeding and snarling, a fever frighteningly close to rage overtaking them as they fucked and clawed each other. It had been intense, and fantastic, and Lex never wanted to feel it again. He would drink blood, and he would give up his life to whatever fate or God or whoever demanded of him, but there were some lines he would not cross again...especially not tonight.

  Tonight, they moved against each other in waves, a slow unfolding undulation, his wings laying over them, him lying over Jason. He sank into his sire's body inch by inch, delicious slick heat and the friction of skin tangling together and finally banishing both sadness and fear. His hands moved down the length of Jason's arms, their fingers lacing together, his cheek resting against the back of the vampire's neck.

  I love you...

  As a human Lex had never known anything like this; he'd been with women and men in his short life, and loved once, but that poor boy who had died in a hospice bed to the sound of a violin seemed so far away now that Lex could barely remember what making love to him had been like. They had been young and new to each other's flesh, groping after each other and stumbling blindly into staccato orgasms born out of love but with all the finesse of two dogs in a backyard. There had never been the feeling of melting, hour by hour, into the skin and being of another, mind sliding in and out of mind with the rise and fall of a symphony. There was no shouting, no curse words, no loss of rhythm, only dissolution, and unity, like two raptors mating on the wing, both coming at once, the world fading to silver, then black.