16. Fifteen

I sat rigidly in Shepherd's office chair, back straight, hands folded neatly in my lap. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting a harsh glare on the diplomas and certifications adorning the walls. Across from me, Agent Valentine slouched in his seat, his silver hair mussed and his jacket rumpled. He eyed me skeptically, his weathered face etched with lines of exhaustion and cynicism.

“Agent Valentine,” I said, my voice smoother, controlled, and devoid of the emotional turmoil that had been simmering moments ago. “This conversation needs to be steered carefully. You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

Valentine tilted his head, eyes narrowing in subtle recognition. He knew something had changed, but he had no idea that he was no longer speaking to Shepherd. If I did my job correctly, he’d never know, and we could get through this without further trauma to Shepherd’s psyche.

“I’m just trying to understand the situation better,” Valentine replied, his tone cautious, but still probing. “You know these people in ways we can’t even begin to comprehend.”

I gave a cold, measured nod, leaning forward slightly. “Understanding is one thing. Engaging with it is another. The Children of the Light are a cancer. Ezekiel thrives on the decay of those around him—emotionally, spiritually, and physically. If you intend to confront him, you’ll need more than knowledge. You’ll need resolve.”

“You still haven’t told me anything about what we’re up against,” Valentine pressed, determined to regain control of the conversation. “The FBI needs more than cryptic warnings.”

My gaze sharpened, locking on him with an intensity that held no warmth, only precision. “Ezekiel knows the system inside and out. He’s built his own infrastructure, a network that spans across state lines. The Children are more than followers; they’re his shield. You won’t find anything concrete unless you’re prepared to dismantle his entire web.”

Valentine leaned back, running a hand through his hair as he considered my words. “So what you're saying is, we can't touch him through official channels. Not without a hell of a lot of collateral damage.”

“Precisely.” I steepled my fingers. “Ezekiel has insulated himself too well. Any direct assault will only end in disaster, for the FBI and for the innocents caught in the crossfire.”

“Then what do you suggest, Doc?” Valentine's tone carried a hint of frustration, but also a grudging respect.

“By understanding that sometimes, the only way to beat a monster is to become one yourself. Ezekiel operates outside the law. To take him down, you may need to do the same.”

A heavy silence settled between us as Valentine digested my words. I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, the internal struggle between his duty as an agent and his desire for justice.

“That’s not how the FBI operates,” he said firmly.

“What about how you operate, Agent Valentine?”

Valentine's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath the weathered skin. “I took an oath to uphold the law, Doctor Laskin. And that’s what I intend to do.”

I shrugged. “Then Ezekiel wins and you lose the same way your agency lost at Jonestown and at Waco. And that, Agent Valentine, will be on you. Not me.”

Valentine's face hardened, and he stood. “I didn't come here for a lecture on morality, Laskin. I came here for information. If you can't give me that, then we're done here.”

I stood and gestured towards the door, my expression impassive. “Then by all means, Agent Valentine, don't let me keep you.”

Valentine hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching mine as if trying to discern some hidden truth. But I had perfected the art of concealment long ago, and my mask remained firmly in place. With a curt nod, he turned and strode out of the office.

I followed. As we reached the reception area, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the polished glass of the framed art. Shepherd's face stared back at me, but the eyes were all wrong, utterly devoid of the warmth and compassion that usually resided there.

Valentine paused at the door, his hand on the knob. He looked back at me over his shoulder, a flicker of uncertainty in his grizzled features. “One more thing. There have been indications that the Children of the Light have been preparing for something big. They’ve been selling off a lot of their larger assets. Some of my superiors think it might mean they’re preparing to relocate. They’ve been difficult to track domestically, but if they leave the country…”

I frowned, making a mental note to write that in our journal for Shepherd. “When do you think they’ll move?”

He shrugged. “Hard to say. Could be weeks. Could be months. We don’t even know if that’s what they’re planning. Either way, I know you have family inside. I thought you should know.”

“I appreciate your concern, Agent Valentine.”

Valentine's brow furrowed, a shadow of suspicion darkening his eyes. “Right. Well, thanks for your time, Dr. Laskin. I'll be in touch if we need anything else.”

With that, he pushed through the door and disappeared into the hallway, leaving me alone in the reception area. I stood there for a moment, savoring the stillness, the quiet hum of the air conditioning the only sound.

Slowly, I turned and made my way back to Shepherd's office, each step measured and deliberate. As I closed the door behind me, I felt a sense of satisfaction settle over me. I had successfully navigated the treacherous waters of Valentine's interrogation, protecting Shepherd and the others from further damage.

But even as I reveled in my small victory, I knew that this was only the beginning. Ezekiel was still out there, a looming threat that cast a shadow over everything we held dear. And if Valentine and the FBI couldn't stop him, then it would fall to us—to me—to find a way.

I settled back into Shepherd's chair, my fingers steepled once more as I stared at the diplomas on the wall without seeing them. My mind was already racing, sifting through possibilities and discarding them just as quickly.

I sat in contemplative silence, my thoughts churning. The threat of Ezekiel and his depraved cult loomed over us, and yet, there was another matter that gnawed at me, an irritant that I could not shake.

Shepherd's relationship with Eli.

It was a complication we could ill afford, a weakness that could be exploited by our enemies. Eli, with his needs and his fragile emotional state, was a liability. His presence in Shepherd's life distracted him, dulled his edge. It was a luxury we could not afford, not when our survival hung in the balance.

I leaned back in the chair, the leather creaking beneath my weight as I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts churning like a tempestuous sea. Shepherd's feelings for the boy were a hindrance, a chink in his armor that could prove fatal. And yet, I knew that any attempt to sever that bond would be met with fierce resistance.

Shepherd was a man driven by his emotions, his compassion and empathy, both his greatest strength and his most glaring weakness. He saw in Eli a kindred spirit, a lost soul in need of guidance and protection. But what Shepherd failed to realize was that his own need to save others often came at the cost of his own well-being.

I rose from the chair, my footsteps echoing in the empty office as I paced. The situation with Eli would need to be handled delicately. A direct confrontation would only serve to push Shepherd further into the boy's arms, and that wouldn’t be good for either of them.

No, a more subtle approach was required. Perhaps I could appeal to Eli, make him see that Shepherd was better off without him. There had to be a way to do that without causing undue damage to Shepherd. If only I could think of it.

I paused before the window, gazing out at the city skyline, the glittering lights a stark contrast to the darkness that lurked within. In the reflection of the glass, I caught a glimpse of my own eyes, cold and calculating. It was a look I had seen before, in the eyes of men like Ezekiel. Men who were willing to do whatever it took to achieve their goals, no matter the cost.

But I was not Ezekiel. My actions, however ruthless they may seem, were born of necessity, not cruelty. I did what I did to protect everyone in our system, to shield them from further damage. Dex and Bryce were still innocent, and Shepherd had seen enough trauma. Keres and I, we were the front line of defense against all the cruelty and pain of the world.

I turned from the window, my jaw set with grim determination. The weight of responsibility settled heavily upon my shoulders, a burden I had borne for as long as I could remember. It was my duty to protect the others, to shield them from the harsh realities of the world, even if it meant making difficult decisions.

With measured steps, I returned to Shepherd's desk, sinking into the worn leather chair. The scent of old books and polished wood enveloped me, a familiar comfort in an uncertain world. I ran my fingers along the smooth surface of the desk, tracing the grain of the wood as my mind wandered.

Shepherd's love for Eli was a double-edged sword, both a source of strength and a potential weakness. The boy brought out a softness in Shepherd, a vulnerability that could be exploited by those who wished us harm. And yet, I couldn't deny the profound impact Eli had on Shepherd's life.

Before Eli, Shepherd had been a man adrift, haunted by the ghosts of his past and the weight of his own guilt. But Eli had given him a sense of purpose, something to focus on other than his grief. Eli made him feel whole. Even I couldn’t deny that. Asking him to give up Eli would be like asking him to give up a part of himself.

I sighed, massaging my temples as a dull ache began to throb behind my eyes. There were times I was glad I wasn’t weighed down by small things like romantic attraction and sexual desire. Shepherd and Keres could keep those things.

As for me, it was time for me to get back to where I belonged, on the inside, looking after Dex and Bryce.