Face Off (17 page)

CHAPTER
29

THE SMALL RESTAURANT
in Alexandria was not far from Laura’s condo. The menu was good enough for repeat visits, but the place had remained under the radar and hadn’t been spoiled by popularity yet. Laura had not once recognized someone from in town when she had been there.

She toyed with the straw in her drink. Sinclair picked up the saltshaker and tapped a few grains into his pilsner glass. She chuckled. “I haven’t seen someone do that in a long, long time.”

Sinclair sipped his beer. “It’s an old habit from my grandfather. He said beer used to be better, and the salt made the swill we drink these days taste better.”

She gave him a lazy smile. “So why order swill?”

Sinclair shrugged. “It’s not. Old habit, like I said. I only do it because it reminds me of him.”

“Were you close?” she asked.

“Are you asking me what else a fire giant might have told me?” he said.

She sighed. “Why is it every time I ask a question, you assume I have ulterior motives, but every time you ask one, you get annoyed if I don’t answer?”

He grinned. “Because we don’t trust each other.”

She picked up false tones in his voice and immediately felt ashamed that she was using a fey ability he didn’t know about. She tamped it down, shutting off her truth sensitivity.

“What did you just do?” he asked.

She startled. “Are you scanning me?”

He blushed. He actually blushed. “No. It was a latent thing. Your essence shape sort of . . . dimmed.”

“I’m trying to relax,” she said.

He held his glass up. “Good. To relaxation.”

She hesitated, then tapped her glass against his. “With everything going on, it feels wrong, though.”

He leaned forward. “Laura, something is always ‘going on,’ isn’t it? There’s nothing you can do right now. Your friends are fine for the night. You need to learn to enjoy yourself, I think.”

She shifted defensively in her chair. “I just got back from a vacation.”

He draped an arm over the back of his chair. “Let me guess: You sat on the beach and read. Got up early, maybe went for a run. Went to bed early. Had room service more than once.”

She smiled into her drink. “Did you follow me?”

“Did you laugh?”

She cocked her head. “Excuse me?”

“You were gone for two weeks. How many times did you laugh?” he asked.

Bemused, she played with some bread crumbs on the table. “Okay, I get your point. But in my defense, it was a decompression vacation.”

He chuckled. “It doesn’t seem to have stuck.”

She found herself smiling. “You’re analyzing me.”

He tilted his head. “A little. When was the last time you went on a date?”

“Does pizza the other night with you count?”

He smiled. “You said it wasn’t a date.”

“If I say it was, can we change the subject?”

He laughed. “Okay, fine. Let’s not talk about work or our pasts. Let’s pretend we’re not supersecret agents saving the world and talk about stuff like normal people.”

She exhaled pleasantly. “I think that’s a fine idea.”

She did let herself relax then, let the conversation run where it would, not throwing out roadblocks. It was easier than she thought. Sinclair made it easy. She liked the way he focused on her when she spoke yet didn’t stare. He seemed to relax, too. It felt comfortable in a way she’d forgotten two people could talk and not have it be concerned about meetings and agendas and threats and, yes, danger. When the check came, it surprised her at how fast the evening had gone.

When they stepped out into the cool evening, Sinclair draped his suit jacket around her shoulders. “That’s rather gallant,” she said.

He made an amused face. “Oh, gallant? I’m gallant?”

She elbowed him as they waited for the valet to bring her Mercedes. “What?”

He chuckled. “That’s a fifty-cent word for a ten-cent guy.”

“Well, it’s a nice gesture. What would you call it?”

He walked her to the driver’s side of the car as it pulled up. “How about a nice gesture?”

She smiled up at him as they stood by the open car door. “It was a nice gesture.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

The moment stretched as they stared at each other. Her heart beat faster as she wondered what to say next. Sinclair turned his head to see if the valet had brought up his car yet. He wrapped his arms around her as he looked back and lowered his face to hers. She closed her eyes as their lips met. His mouth was warm and smooth with a touch of wine. The soft kiss lingered, then he pulled away with a slight tap of his tongue on her lips. “I’m not going to ask you to let me go home with you.”

She giggled, then laughed at the giggle. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

He brushed her cheek with a gentle hand. “I’m not asking because I don’t want you to say no. I want to end the night on the perfect note.”

“Jono, we had dinner . . .” she said.

He held his finger against his lips. “See? Don’t talk. I want to pretend you didn’t humor me.”

She slipped off his coat and got in her car as the valet brought Sinclair’s car up behind hers. “I didn’t humor you, Jono.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Now, get in your car and follow me before the valet starts blowing the horn.”

Subtle surprise lit his face. He slid his finger along her jaw. “You’re sure about that?”

She smiled. “No, but is anyone, ever?”

He leaned down and kissed her again, then went to his car. Her heart racing, she waited until the valet cleared the driveway before pulling onto the street.

I’m insane, she thought as she checked to make sure he was following. Inviting him back to her place went against her rules. She had gotten involved with people she worked with in the past, but not someone in the same unit. Jono was different. He wasn’t impressed with her abilities as a druid agent. He didn’t care if she screwed up, and he listened when she explained herself. Gods, he listened when she talked. Alone in the car, she laughed. Maybe she wasn’t so insane.

After parking his car in front of the condo, he met her at the front door. As they entered the living room, he placed a light hand on her back, as if he were afraid she wasn’t there. She glanced over her shoulder, and he kissed her on the cheek. Neither spoke. She slipped her hand into his and led him into the bedroom. They left the lights off, the glow from the living room providing the only illumination.

Laura turned into his arms, and they kissed. His mouth tasted of subtle mint and wine. She slid her hands inside his suit jacket and helped it slide off him to the floor. He reached behind her and unzipped her dress. Not releasing the kiss, she stepped out of the dress and left it next to his coat on the floor. She pulled herself closer as he lowered them both to the bed.

She rolled on top of him and removed her bra. Sinclair sighed and rubbed his hands up her sides. Her essence sparked with the rush of physical desire coursing through her.

“You’re glowing,” he whispered.

She leaned forward with a smile, resting her hands against his shoulders and tickling his face with her hair. His body signature smoldered in shades of amber and gold. “You are, too.”

He chuckled, warm and deep. “This is what I’ve hoped for.”

She sensed truth in his words and in his essence. He wanted her with no subterfuge. “So have I,” she said.

More truth. She pulled him into a seated position as she straddled him and brought her lips to his. He murmured with pleasure, and she let go of any more hesitation.

CHAPTER
30

THE NEXT MORNING,
Laura reviewed messages on her PDA in the anteroom to the Guildmaster’s office. The text in front of her didn’t make much impression as images of the previous night flashed through her mind. She had made a choice that even in the light of day felt like the right one. Getting involved with someone—with Sinclair—didn’t frighten her anymore. It was a risk, like all relationships, but she wasn’t going to let work take priority over her personal life from now on. Instead, she took the last remaining moments before meeting with Rhys to remember the feel of Sinclair’s arms around her, his face nuzzled into her neck as he slept. Near dawn, he eased out of bed trying not to wake her, but she rolled over and smiled up at him, half-dressed in the faint dawnlight. He kissed her good morning with a promise to meet her later in the day.

Laura glanced at Rhys’s assistant, a young Danann fairy who was typing with speed. She didn’t know the woman’s name and tried not to feel guilty about it. The assistant would probably be gone in a month or so. Rhys burned through his help, but he never lacked for interested applicants. Having his name on a résumé looked good and as a reference even better, provided one didn’t screw up too badly. Everyone screwed up as far as Rhys was concerned.

“He’ll see you now,” the assistant said. She hadn’t stopped typing or diverted her attention from her computer screen. No phone or intercom rang. Still reading her PDA, Laura entered the office. Rhys spoke quietly on the phone, so she sat and texted Saffin a few details she remembered for Draigen’s reception. Rhys hung up as she finished the message. He worked at his computer as if she weren’t there. She closed the PDA and folded her hands on her lap. Rhys continued typing.

“I’d like an explanation,” she said.

He didn’t look up. “Oh, are you ready to see me?”

“Are you?”

He spun slowly in his chair. “I like when you’re annoyed, Laura. It means your job is challenging. It’s what makes you stay.”

She snorted. “Do you want me to leave?”

He smiled. “No, I want you to do what you do best.”

“Which I can’t do if I don’t know what’s going,” she said.

He sighed. “You seem to be spending time angry with me lately.”

She shook her head in exasperation. “Are you trying to provoke me or avoid the subject at hand?”

“Which is?”

“Terryn macCullen, as if you didn’t know.”

“Ah, I was wondering when he would come up.” An obvious lie. Rhys didn’t care that she was angry.

“You should have told me he was suspended,” she said.

Rhys made a show of surprise. “Is he? I thought he went on leave.”

“Orrin, I’m getting very close to losing my temper. There’s a difference between being challenged and being antagonized.”

He chuckled. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Laura. I’m feeling perverse today. Things are going so well, I find myself unable not to gloat and irritate.”

“Well, if this is your good mood, warn me when a bad one’s coming,” she said.

He laughed. “Okay, I should have told you. It was part of the package with getting rid of the
leanansidhe
. I told InterSec that if macCullen didn’t accept a suspension, I would publicly accuse them of incompetence and have Maeve allow me to throw them out.”

“But you’re accusing them anyway,” she said.

He shook his head. “Privately, yes. Publicly, I’m letting them save face and claim they initiated their own investigation.”

“You should have told me,” she said.

“I was going to, but macCullen took me by surprise. I gave them twenty-four hours. He walked out before I knew what happened. I should have anticipated such a move. These macCullens are always working at cross-purposes.”

Truth hummed in his words. That did sound like something Terryn would do. He didn’t like being given ultimatums any more than anyone else, but if he had to accept one, he’d find a way to do it on his own terms. Rhys’s throwaway comment intrigued her, though.

“Cross-purposes?” she asked.

He waved a hand dismissively. “Our Lady Regent gave me the idea to suspend him. When I told her I was getting rid of the
leanansidhe
, she said she understood and that it would be unfortunate for such a fate to befall her brother. I thought the idea intriguing, so I used it.”

“But she said . . .” Laura stopped at an exasperated eyebrow lift from Rhys.

“Don’t be naïve, Laura. She said it to me with the purpose of putting the idea in my mind. I don’t know what her game is, but sidelining Terryn macCullen appealed to her and works fine with me.”

Rhys was right, she realized. She wasn’t naïve. She knew the nuance of conversations with subtext. But like Rhys said, she didn’t understand why having Terryn out of InterSec would benefit the Inverni cause. It surprised her.

“All well and good. In the meantime, I’m getting pressure from the media. They see your hand in this,” she said.

He grinned. “Do they?”

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. He was intent on staying in this mood. “Okay, I get it. You want them to know the Guild is behind it, but you want deniability. Can I ask why?”

He leaned forward. “It sends a message. The Inverni need to know that the Seelie Court will not be passive if they seek allies against it. And the public needs to know the decisions that the Inverni make. Letting a
leanansidhe
into the Guildhouse has upset many people, Laura. That thing was dangerous.”

“No, she isn’t,” she said. As soon as she said it, she bit her lip. It had been an impulsive reaction.

Rhys pulled his chin in, surprised. “How do you know that’s true or not?”

She shrugged. “She’s a solitary. Resha Dunne would tell us if there was a danger, wouldn’t he?”

Rhys scoffed. “Dunne wouldn’t know his ass from his back fin.”

Laura shook her head. “Still, Orrin, Resha knows how to cover that back fin. If he knew of a danger that might reflect on him, I think he’d do something about it.”

He leaned forward again. “How about this, then: I don’t like it. I don’t like that a
leanansidhe
was free to roam this building. I don’t like that it exists. You’re young, Laura. Here-born. You don’t know the damage those things have done here and back in Faerie.”

She closed her eyes a moment. She hated when an Old One invoked the past in Faerie. She couldn’t argue it. Never mind that the fey who did remember Faerie recalled only bits and pieces. That Rhys remembered a
leanansidhe
meant he had experienced them, and by all accounts, the
leanansidhe
did cause havoc. If what she had heard was any indication of the true reality, Cress’s sister
leanansidhe
—if not Cress herself—were formidable foes.

Nothing she could say at that point would change Rhys’s mind. She heard it in his voice and saw it in his body language. She entertained the idea that he was afraid of what Cress was capable of. He had watched her absorb an enormous amount of essence at the Archives, then destroy the roof of the building. That Cress did it to save lives was beside the point to him. That she could do it at all was the problem.

“Let’s let go of this discussion, Orrin. What’s done is done, and we need to address the ramifications for the Guild,” she said.

He leaned back again. “Good. Put something together that says we are surprised at the recent changes at InterSec and look forward to the release of their findings. Throw in something about regretting that such an esteemed member of the Inverni clan as Terryn macCullen decided to go on leave, and that it is an unfortunate loss at this time because his wisdom will be missed.”

His disingenuous tone set her teeth on edge, but she had pushed him as much as she could for one day. “I will. Can I have your word you’ll give me more of a heads-up than the day after you do something radical?”

He chuckled. “I will, but you know I won’t be able to keep it.”

“I know. It would be nice to hear you say it, though,” she said.

He tilted his head in a bow. “I shall try not to make your job harder than it is.”

She stood. “Thank you. I’ll get back to work, then.”

“Before you go, Laura, I want to say one more thing. After all these years and all you’ve seen, I admire your optimism. I hope you aren’t sorely disappointed when people turn out exactly as they are.”

She paused by the door. “Do you believe in redemption, Orrin?”

He seemed surprised at the question and paused before answering. “I do. But I don’t believe that acceptance always follows. Sometimes it shouldn’t.”

A sad smile slipped across her face as she left. She had to believe in redemption—and forgiveness. She had spent years doing some harsh things in the name of the greater good. She believed that someday she would be called to account for them, and she hoped whoever judged her showed more mercy than Orrin ap Rhys.