“Your essence,” he said. “Sometimes essence shapes feel right to me. When I meet someone I also think is good-looking, it’s a combination that’s hard to resist.”
She gave him a sly smile. “What if I were a guy?”
“Then I’d ask you to go bowling,” he said without missing a beat.
She laughed. “You do not bowl.”
He chuckled. “And you’re not a guy.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You’re sure about that?”
He drained his beer. “If you were a guy, you wouldn’t have been tugging at your tight flak jacket in the van the night of the mission. Even with a glamour.”
She flicked soap bubbles at him. “I knew you were staring!”
He flinched and grinned. “So sue me.”
She settled back again. “What’s with all the candles?”
His forehead creased. “What? Don’t you like them?”
She shifted in the water, then darted her eyes to the bubbles to make sure she was covered. “It’s not a guy thing, in my experience.”
His eyebrows went up. “You have a lot of experience with fire giants?”
Laura debated whether to be afraid he was about to announce an ability she wasn’t prepared for. “You have a fire ability?”
He took another swallow of beer. “I wish. They’re for meditation and prayer.”
“Prayer! You’re devout?”
He slowly shook his head. “I am not about to debate jotunn theology with a Celtic druidess.”
She allowed herself a snicker. “Oh, right. Fire and water.”
Silence filled the room. Sinclair sat with an amused expression as he toyed with his beer bottle. She closed her eyes. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll be out in a bit.”
Sinclair didn’t move right away, and she wondered if he were going to push the situation. Instead, she heard the hamper creak as he removed his feet, then the bathroom door close softly.
The water and Cress’s concoction soothed her tired muscles. She wondered how many more layers there were to Sinclair. She liked his look and his manner. Even his constant flirting had its appeal. He seemed almost too good to be real. Which is why you shouldn’t trust him, she thought. If she were working for Blume or Alfrey or whoever, she would do the same thing-seduce, subvert, and deceive. No, despite her attraction, Jonathan Sinclair had to remain at arms length until she knew his full story.
When she stepped out of the bathroom in her sweats and T-shirt, Sinclair was working at his laptop in the study area. He glanced at her in a distracted way, then returned to his screen. She carried her filthy clothes into the living room and stuffed them in the duffel bag. In an inside pocket of the duffel, she tucked the spell-secured case that contained her perfect stone with the Mariel glamour. She wore the stone for the Janice glamour in case she needed to activate it on a moment’s notice.
Clean and relaxed, she finally felt hungry. She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Despite cluttered shelves, she didn’t see anything to eat as an actual meal. She checked the freezer and found two frozen dinners. “Are you hungry?” she called out.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he replied.
She slid the dinners from their boxes and popped them in the microwave. Sinclair joined her and leaned against the counter near the listening ward. Its essence faded away.
Laura leaned against the opposite counter. “We’re shifting our investigation. Janice Crawford is going on extended sick leave, and you’re taking over.”
He crossed his arms. Her eyes went to the prominent veining on his biceps. “What does that mean?” he asked.
“We want to know who Foyle talks to, where he goes, and anything that strikes you as out of the ordinary,” she said.
“You’re telling me my commanding officer is under suspicion,” he said.
She nodded. “Foyle’s been instrumental in blocking information to InterSec, and you said he pulled back teams at the fire so that the Inverni could get in. That makes him fair game.”
Sinclair rubbed at his crew cut. “I can see that. It puts me in an uncomfortable position.”
Laura snorted. “Welcome to my life.”
“Except, I have nothing to prove you’re the good guys or that I’m legitimately working for you. I’m not stupid. You could be setting me up.”
Laura watched the frozen dinners revolve in the microwave. He had a point. “What can I do to make you trust me, Jono?”
He laughed. “Call off your watchdogs. You can stay, but the tail on me has to go.”
She shook her head. “They’re protecting you.”
“Maybe. They’re also watching. If I’m going to be part of whatever this thing is that I’ve gotten tangled in, I’m going to have to survive on my own. You want trust, and so do I. Trust me to take care of myself without the spies.”
“I’ll talk to Terryn,” she said.
“Good. When you do, tell him Foyle talks to Alfie a lot.”
“His name’s Alfrey,” she said.
She hadn’t corrected him earlier. By the way Sinclair paused, she wondered if he caught it. If he did, he decided not to mention it. “He’s talked to Foyle a number of times about Triad.”
“He’s with Blume’s company?”
Sinclair shook his head. “Used to be a long time ago. They had some kind of falling-out, but Hornbeck’s been trying to get them back together. Alfrey’s consulting or something.”
“Just because Hornbeck or Foyle are involved doesn’t mean he’s a good guy.”
Sinclair frowned knowingly at her. “Oh, I definitely will keep that in mind.”
Laura reddened at the accusation. The microwave bell went off. She hit the door release. “Dinner’s ready.”
CHAPTER 24
A BENEFIT LAURA enjoyed with staying at Sinclair’s apartment was one less glamour transition at the Guildhouse. Instead of arriving at work as Laura Blackstone and contriving excuses to Saffin for absences, she arrived as Janice Crawford and took care of business. Leaving her SWAT-team gear in the duffel, she glamoured a simple, ill-fitting suit that reflected Janice’s inattention to clothing. Within ten minutes of pulling in to the Guildhouse garage, she knocked on the door to Mariel Tate’s office suite.
Liam acknowledged her as she came in the door. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Janice Crawford. I have a ten o’clock with Mariel Tate,” she said.
Liam made a show of looking at his watch. “You’re early. She’s out of the office at the moment, but she’ll return shortly. Take a seat-there’s coffee if you want it.”
Laura took one of the leather armchairs. Since Mariel and Genda operated as outside consultants, neither tended to have large meetings. The reception area had room enough for only two or three people to sit.
Laura sorted through magazines on the low coffee table. Liam engaged in a number of sports, including skiing and rock climbing, and brought in old copies from his subscriptions. She noticed he didn’t always rip off his mailing address labels. Mariel wouldn’t like that. It made the Guild look cheap and was bad form for someone in InterSec to be so casual about personal information.
She pushed aside both the sports and business mags and found the general interest ones. Fortunately, the current editions were there, so she was able to catch up on pop culture. She planned to kill half an hour before giving up on Mariel. It was a game she had to play rarely, one glamour supposedly meeting another. Janice Crawford didn’t have much shelf life left as a persona, but given the level of investigation with the drug raid, she wanted the file to reflect a clean investigation with no questions.
She made herself a cup of coffee and settled in to read book and movie reviews. Laura read, sometimes voraciously, but did not have much time or energy to go to movies. Occasionally, she would rent one, but most films bored her. Television fared even worse on her entertainment schedule. It wasn’t the programs so much as the rampant, aggressive advertising. Having lived through several wars, she had a
strong sense of the meanings of want and need. Consumer culture made her uncomfortable.
Liam answered the telephone and handled general office tasks. He had little to do for Mariel, so most calls were for Genda. Laura made a mental note for Mariel to have lunch with Genda while she was in town. Despite glaring conversational voids when they touched on their respective jobs, they found things to talk about to while away an hour or so. With not much of a social life, Laura enjoyed the company.
Genda arrived in a flutter of white hair and undulating wings. She was a Danann fairy, not a royal family member but still part of the ruling clan of the Seelie Court. She wasn’t considered powerful in the essence department, but even a low-powered Danann was formidable. She gave Laura a cursory look as she passed, then leaned in to ask Liam if he had seen Mariel.
Liam glanced at Laura. “No. She’s running late for an appointment.”
“Tell her to stop in if she has a chance.” Genda disappeared into her office without another look at Laura.
Laura checked her watch more frequently. At first she did it to mimic impatience, but after a while, she did it because she was bored and wanted to leave. The phone rang, and Liam answered it. Out of habit, Laura focused attention on his words when he dropped his voice. When people dropped their voices, it was generally something they didn’t want others to hear. “I don’t know,” he said, then, “I haven’t seen her in three days… She doesn’t always tell me her schedule… I put it back… No, I’m not. I’m uncomfortable about what happened… If it was a coincidence, then fine… I’ll see what I can find out. I have to go.”
He hung up and didn’t move. Curious, Laura glanced over. She didn’t think he had a girlfriend, but his tone sounded evasive and defensive. When their eyes met, he acted self-conscious, as if he had forgotten she was there. He turned to his computer.
“Excuse me, but has Ms. Tate called or anything?” she asked.
Liam continued typing without looking up again. “No. She’s usually on time. She’ll be here.”
Laura looked pointedly at her watch. “I have a doctor’s appointment that I don’t want to miss. At this point, I don’t think I’ll have time, so can I reschedule this?”
He did turn then. “Is it over at InterSec? I can have Mariel rearrange that for you.”
Liam’s intuition made sense. He facilitated the job with Foyle, so he knew she was InterSec. “Um… that’s kind of personal, but thanks. I’ll call Ms. Tate to reschedule.”
She left the anteroom and rode the rear elevator to the seventh floor. Entering her room through the back hallway, she shed the Janice glamour, including the outfit. Catching sight of her jeans, she rejected the idea of another plain outfit for the day. Saffin would be sure to mention it, and even more sure to be disappointed in Laura. If Laura allowed herself any indulgence, it was an expensive wardrobe for her public-relations work. She changed into a designer label, a lightweight caramel-colored pantsuit with a black-and-white horizontal-striped blouse.
As she fixed her hair, she put her phone on speaker and called Saffin. “Hi, Saf. It’s me. Can you do me a favor and see if I left a folder at Rhys’s office? I was down there this morning, and now I can’t find it.”
“Sure. Are you coming in?” Saffin asked.
“Yeah. I’m down grabbing a coffee and will be right up.”
“Got it.” Saffin hung up.
Laura repacked her overnight bag for later and dropped it in the closet on her way through to her office. She called the reception desk on the Guildmaster’s floor. “Hi, it’s Laura Blackstone. Saffin’s on the way up. When she gets there, can you tell her I found the file I was looking for?”
The receptionist acknowledged and hung up. Laura hated manipulating Saffin. Between her natural tendency to please and her brownie predilection to accomplish tasks at all costs, Saffin’s compliance bordered on submission. After working together so many years, Laura knew the woman had bonded with her, and the connection was strong. It was a level of trust that Laura did not take lightly.
Saffin breezed into the office. “Hi. Did Rhys rewrite his speech again?”
Laura rolled her eyes. “He wants to impress our special guest.”
Saffin nodded. “Speaking of which, Secret Service sent over another revision on the outside security. They’re closing down Constitution Avenue during the speeches.”
In the original plan, the secretary of state was to represent the U.S. at the Archives ceremony. She would still speak, but High Queen Maeve had a major fan in the current president. He had sent word to be put on the program as a surprise guest. Of course, the presence of the media and his desire to expand mutual security initiatives with the Seelie Court had plenty to do with it.
“And speaking of the speeches, have you heard the news?” said Laura. “Hornbeck got what he wanted. Tylo Blume’s in. The chief archivist is going on first, so let’s stick Blume right after him. He gets five minutes. With any luck, everyone will have forgotten he was there by the time the president arrives.”
Saffin grinned. “I love when you do stuff like that.”
Laura scrunched her nose. “I hate all the gamesmanship, but it’s part of the, um, game in this town.”
“I’m going to go to the Archives this afternoon for an event run-through. Anything you want me to focus on?” Saffin asked.
Laura shook her head. “Use your judgment. You probably know more than I do at this point.”
“Can I have a company car?” Saffin asked.
Amused, Laura shook her head. “No. It’s five blocks.”
Saffin giggled as she left. With a touch of envy, Laura watched her leave. Despite all the evident frustrations of dealing with Laura’s odd schedule, Saffin loved her job-the big personalities, the complicated schedules, the politics and drama, even the mysteries of her boss’s unexplained absences. Laura wouldn’t trade her as an assistant for anything.
She finished up her email and checked her watch. Time to put in one last glamoured visit at the Guildhouse before focusing on other matters. She closed down her computer and retrieved her overnight bag. Down in the parking garage, she stepped into the security-camera blind spot and activated the Janice glamour, walked to the SUV, and left the bag in the back. Returning to the elevator, she hit the blind spot, swapped Janice for Mariel, and went back up to InterSec.
Liam jumped up when she entered the anteroom. “You just missed Janice Crawford.”
Laura frowned as she checked the time and continued into her office. She kept up the annoyed attitude to reduce Liam’s hang-around time. “I was in a meeting I couldn’t get out of. When did she leave?”
“About twenty minutes ago,” he said from the doorway.
She pulled her chair up to the desk and started her computer. “Call her and get her back in here. If you get her voicemail, give her my work cell and tell her she’s to call immediately.”
“Got it,” he said.
Janice Crawford’s cell phone vibrated. Laura checked the number to confirm it was Liam. With that out of the way, she removed the crystal-sphere paperweight from a pile of mail and sorted through correspondence.
When the political nuances of her career as Laura Blackstone exhausted her, the intellectual challenge of Mariel Tate’s position came as a welcome relief. Mariel played corporate politics like anyone else, but the nature of her diplomatic missions were more research-oriented and in-house consultancy. She advised, and other people took the matter from there. It was nice not to have final responsibility.
She separated out a number of white papers to read at home and collected the correspondence that needed responses. The rest of the mail she organized, returned to her in-box, and placed the paperweight on top of it.
She leaned back in her chair, scrolling through email. In the middle of everything, Terryn was passing Mariel Tate an invitation to a summit meeting of defense executives next month. He had a remarkable ability to compartmentalize projects. He mentioned hard-copy correspondence he had sent, a
nd she pulled the in-box toward her.
As she reached for the paperweight, she paused, her hand hovering an inch away from the clear crystal. She dropped her hand beside the in-box and stared. Essence accumulated with repeated contact and dissipated with the lack of it. Since her sensing ability worked at all times-was effectively always “on”-she sensed the faint trace of Mariel’s body signature on the paperweight. Too faint, though. Crystals worked as essence capacitors, and she used the Mariel persona frequently enough for there to be significant buildup on the paperweight. There wasn’t. She boosted more essence into her sensing ability to fine focus and found only enough essence from moving the crystal moments before. It should have had more. Much more.
Her eyes shot to the door to her office. Liam’s comment on the phone earlier became clear. “I put it back,” she remembered him saying. Last time she was in the office, she hadn’t forgotten taking the paperweight to her room. She hadn’t taken it at all.
She picked up the phone. “This is Mariel Tate, Suite 835. I need a security agent.”
“Is there a problem?” the dispatch asked.
“No. But there will be in a moment.” She hung up.
“Liam, I need you,” she called. She watched him come around his desk. “Close the door and have a seat.”
He smiled at her seriousness and complied. “What’s up?”
She picked up the paperweight and placed it on the edge of the desk in front of him. “Explain.”
He paled. “What?”
“Are you going to tell me you didn’t take this from my office recently?” she asked.
He shifted in his seat and licked his lips. “Uh, no. I use it when you’re not here. I should have asked. I’m sorry.”
His words registered heavily as untrue. “That would be plausible if your essence was on it and mine wasn’t completely stripped. Neither is the case. You have no fey abilities to do that. Who did you give it to?”
A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” Laura said.
A Danann security agent entered, his wings flared open and glowing white with charged essence. The Guild’s elite force wore black uniforms designed to intimidate and a chrome helmet that completely covered the head and hid identity. They were highly trained, faithful, and utterly discreet. If possible, Liam turned even more pale.
Skin Deep lb-1 Page 19