She chuckled and lifted her drink. “You did warn me about the spell bomb.”
“Is it me, or was that a crazy stunt you pulled at the fire?”
She tilted her head forward and sipped, being careful not to dislodge any bubbles. “A little. Terryn wasn’t too happy about it. Sometimes you have to take risks to keep your cover.”
“You didn’t say anything to me at the drug raid, you know,” he said. Truth resonated in his words.
“That’s too bad for both of us. I can’t remember if Sanchez said anything, and someone tried to run you off the road for nothing.”
He smiled around the lip of the bottle. “Well, I did get to meet you.”
She let her head drop back against the tub again. “You seem fixated on me. You know that, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “I like your vibe. I don’t feel that often.”
“I have a vibe?”
“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.