Cress squatted nearby on the ground, arms wrapped around knees as she swayed. She stared, not looking at Laura, not focusing on anything but the patch of concrete at her feet. Laura sensed a deep purple corona smoldering darkly around her. Cress lifted her head, her eyes closing as she opened her mouth. With a strange, soft cry, a small cluster of darkness floated out of her mouth. It danced like a cloud of nothing, then dissolved into motes of black and was gone.
Terryn waited near the front of the SUV, his dark wings open high and wide. Around him, around them all, the air wavered like a curtain of water, the distorted images of cars and columns undulating beyond it. They were behind a protection barrier in the Guildhouse parking garage.
Laura felt the flutter of sending. Cress lifted her head toward Terryn. She nodded with a weak smile and stood. She held out her hand to Laura. “How do you feel?”
Laura pulled herself up. “Fine. Considering.”
Anytime Cress looked at her or anything else, Laura thought of it as staring. The weird, whiteless eyes acted like normal eyes, the raised bumps of pupils shifted as Cress focused or cocked her head to examine something. But without that small defining white to either side, she always looked like she was staring. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I started going head-blind and blacking out. Every time I stopped the SUV, I woke up driving the damned thing again.”
Cress nodded. “There was an essence infusion of henbane and moonflower in your system. It was short-circuiting your brain. You threw up the physical poison, but the killing spell released.”
“How the hell did you find me?” Laura asked.
Cress tilted her head. “You called us on the cell and activated your transmitter.”
Laura rubbed the back of her neck. She remembered taking out the cell, then blacking out, then taking the cell out again.
She jumped to her feet. “Sinclair!”
“He’s fine,” said Terryn. “As soon as we received your distress call, we sent someone to pick him up at the Vault. He made an excuse to leave his post and left before anyone knew he was gone.”
Laura slumped down onto the running board of the SUV. “I screwed up.”
“You’re tired and still recovering from the concussion,” Cress said.
“I screwed up, Cress!” Cress took the outburst without reacting. She knew the anger wasn’t directed at her.
“What happened?” asked Terryn.
Laura shook her head. “Alfrey was in the building. I had a drink with Gianni. He slipped something into it.”
Cress leaned against Terryn. “We need rest. We can talk tomorrow. I will remain on call.”
“You don’t need to do that, Cress. I just need sleep now,” Laura said.
“I think it’s better I sleep alone tonight anyway,” said Cress. Laura glanced at her, then away. She didn’t want to think about what Cress had done to her-what Laura had let her do.
Terryn wrapped his arms around Cress and kissed her forehead, a rare show of public affection. “Go upstairs then. I’ll take care of the body.”
Cress held him. Laura felt a surge of essence and watched without comment as Terryn allowed Cress to siphon some of his body essence. She wondered what Terryn would have done if he had fallen in love with Cress and wasn’t an Inverni. With the powerful reserves of essence innate to his species, he had little to fear from a leanansidhe absorbing some off him. It didn’t mean she couldn’t hurt or kill him, just that he would last a lot longer against her than most fey. Cress pulled away from him and walked through the shimmering barrier that hid them from prying eyes.
Body. Terryn said he would take care of a body. Laura spun toward the SUV. Through the open door, she saw a dark shape in the back. She sensed the essence of an Inverni fairy. It should have been stronger that close to her.
“Dammit,” she muttered.
She popped the hatch of the SUV. A shirtless Inverni fairy lay on his back, pale skin bearing ancient blue tribal tattoos across the chest and shoulders, faded with time. In life, Inverni wings flicker with light and color, notably whites and deep blues. In death, they were dim and gray, their diaphanous nature hardening to a fragile membrane that crumbled at the slightest touch. The translucent wings twisted around his arms and legs, a nauseating tangle that would never happen in life. A deep burn mark marred the left half of the fairy’s face. It wasn’t Alfrey.
On top of messing up, she’d put Terryn in a position of having to kill someone. He went for a head shot. Laura spoke a prayer of departing to herself. She didn’t want the Inverni to leave an echo of anger behind for her as he made his afterlife journey to TirNaNog.
“I’m sorry you had to do that, Terryn.”
He shrugged. “The Wheel of the World turns as it will, Laura. It chose me to be at the end of his path.”
Laura didn’t respond as he lifted out the body. She believed in the Wheel of the World, the grand turning of events large and small that determined the course of one’s life. She accepted that things happened for a reason and for no reason at the same time. That didn’t mean she wasn’t responsible for her role in events. It didn’t mean she had to like it. It didn’t mean she knew what her future held. What it meant, to her, was that actions begot reactions and mistakes had ramifications. A dead body was never a good thing to leave in one’s path.
CHAPTER 29
LAURA LET TERRYN unlock the door to the Mariel Tate apartment. She rarely used the place. Mariel had to appear to live somewhere, and the nondescript building where the Guildhouse kept corporate residence suites fit the bill. She turned on the lights as she entered behind him, illuminating the large open studio. If her apartment in Alexandria lacked personality, the Mariel apartment had the bland style of a hotel room.
She dropped her bags on the floor. “Really, Terryn, you had someone do a sweep of all my places yesterday.”
He circled the room with a small obelisk of granite that glowed a steady blue. It was keyed to change color if it encountered other essences. “I’ll remind you that someone managed to get a bomb through security at the FBI building.”
He had a point. She went to the kitchenette in the corner and pulled two bottles of fruit juice out of the refrigerator. She opened one and left the other on the counter. “Whose orders do you think Gianni is following, Alfrey’s or Blume’s?”
He hovered off the floor to check along the top of the wall of curtained windows. “Alfrey’s.”
She pursed her lips. “That was a quick answer.”
Terryn settled to the floor and placed the obelisk on the coffee table. “It’s clear.” He pointed at the juice on the counter. “Is that for me?”
She tossed him the bottle. “Are you changing the subject?”
He drank the entire bottle in one smooth motion. “Blume’s not a fool. He wouldn’t poison you on his own property. I think Gianni is playing Alfrey and Blume against each other. Besides, I recognized the clan tattoos of the Inverni who attacked you in the SUV. He’s from a subclan of the Alfreys.”
She showed him a slight smile. “Terryn, my friend, you forget whom you’re talking to. I’m sensing a subtle evasion in your voice modulations.”
He nodded, staring down at the floor. “Simon Alfrey and his father Skene manipulate the lesser Inverni clans to no good end. Simon’s involvement makes me uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, well, uncomfortable doesn’t quite cover how I feel about someone who’s tried to kill me,” Laura sent.
Terryn sighed and looked up. “It would not be an exaggeration to say I blame the Alfreys for the death of my father.”
Laura’s eyebrows shot up. “You know I want to hear why.”