Skin Deep (35 page)

“Helhound, is that thing the bomb?” asked Sinclair from behind her.

Laura nodded. “It’s enough pressured essence to vaporize everyone in here.”

Protection spells wrapped around the core of the bomb. Cress’s deep violet essence threaded its way through the levels, sorting out the purpose of the spells. Her tendrils danced along a green grid, wrapped around it, and tugged. The essence leached away, pulsing back up the strands into Cress. The grid faded. She started on the next one.

“Too many,” Cress whispered, her stark, black eyes wide.

“What is it?” Laura asked softly.

Cress paused. “They’re all trigger spells. I have to sort each one to find its purpose. I can’t identify which one triggers the bomb or how.”

“Can Sinclair’s medallion help?”

Cress shook her head. “Weakening the protection essence is a fail-safe on some of the triggers.” Without a word, Sinclair moved back.

“What can I do?” Laura asked.

Cress focused on the document. “Power. If I can tap someone’s Power, I can move faster.”

Body essence. Cress wanted body essence. Laura trembled as she took a deep breath. “Take mine, Cress. As much as you need. All of it, if necessary.”

Cress moved her head slightly. “It won’t be enough. I need more than one person.”

Laura swallowed hard. If Cress needed more than one person, she meant at least one would die as she drained them. Laura looked around the room. She didn’t know what to do. Pick someone, she thought. Hit them with a binding spell and let Cress work. Her eyes came to rest on Orrin ap Rhys. “What about the Guildmaster? He’s Danann. Does he have enough?”

Cress absorbed another spell layer. “He’s the strongest fey here.”

Guildmaster, you’re needed by the Treaty,
Laura sent.

The barrier is weakening. We will be through in minutes,
he sent back.

Laura appealed to his vanity.
We do not have minutes, sir. There’s a bomb. Only you can stop it.

Rhys dropped his hands. He gave one last look at the essence barrier and started toward them. As he drew near, Laura saw his body signature towering around him like a storm cloud. Powerful was an understatement.

Cress gasped. “Something’s happening.”

Laura looked down at the Treaty. A wheel-shaped layer of yellow essence glowed in a pattern, bolts of light arcing along its radial spokes. The arcing grew, jumping from one part of the pattern to the next. They bent and swirled, twisting together and leaping out in the same direction. Laura followed the line of their path to Rhys. The bolts grew larger.

“Rhys, stop!” she shouted. He froze. The bolts stabilized but didn’t dissipate. Laura looked at the strange essence leaning toward Rhys, and she saw it for what it was. “The Treaty was supposed to rise during Rhys’s speech, Cress. The bomb is keyed to his body signature. He’s the trigger.”

Cress swayed. Black spider fractures appeared on the orb. “I think . . . I think it’s too late.”

The orb pulsed and expanded, white light burning in the fractures. Cress’s essence plunged into the cracks. Her violet essence became thick ropy strands as they sucked greedily at the orb.

“Cress, you can’t contain that!” Laura shouted. She tried to pull her away. Cress screamed. The orb bulged and burned brighter. Laura threw out her body shield. “Everybody down!” she screamed.

A shock wave of white essence exploded. It slammed against Laura and threw her off her feet. The white light enveloped her, and she stopped motionlessly in the air. Bodies hung in suspension surrounded her, trapped in the frozen explosion of a brilliant white haze. Within its center, Cress glowed in black-and-purple silhouette. The light collapsed. Laura hit the floor, blinded by the afterimage. Dazed, she forced herself to stand.

Cress hovered like a lavender flame above the floor, scorching the stone beneath her feet. Her head fell back, and darkness oozed from her lips. Essence convulsed and radiated outward in waves. Laura staggered into Sinclair’s arms.

“She can’t hold it, Jono,” Laura said.

He dragged Laura away, shouting. “Get everyone back! Shields! We need as many shields as possible.”

Everyone retreated from Cress’s burning figure. Hemmed in by bodies, Laura joined the other fey on the far side of the Rotunda. They extended their body shields, the human guests tangled against the wall behind them.

Light shivered off Cress and struck the body shields. They warped, and people fell. Another burst released. The shields shifted again, pressing against the crowd. A third burst pulsed, stronger than the last. The shields shuddered, leaving little room between them and the wall. Laura fought to retain her balance.

Get against the wall, Jono. Your medallion’s fighting the shields,
Laura sent. She didn’t wait to see if he complied. Another pulse of essence burst from Cress. The body shields retreated, tightening the gap. Screams went up as some collapsed. The odor of burnt flesh filled the air. People spread out to cover the breach.

Laura cast a broadcast sending.
She’s trying to do a controlled release. Time your energy to the waves!
Another burst and the entire line of fey stumbled back. The screams behind her were deafening as Laura fought to hold herself up. Again, and half the line fell. Laura bowed her head under the strain.

Cress floated like a brilliant mauve star beneath the Rotunda ceiling dome. The skylight in the center of the dome shattered under the pressure, shards of glass disintegrating as they fell into her burning field. She rose higher, her body cycling to a deep lavender as the energies within her fought for release. Tears sprang to Laura’s eyes. The essence was too much. Cress was burning out. She was dying.

The damaged skylight framed her body like a broken eye, the top edge of the Inverni barrier rippling just below. Laura’s skin prickled as she watched essence escape through the skylight.

Up, Cress! Release the essence up!
Cress didn’t acknowledge.

Blow the roof, Cress! Straight up!
No response. Cress burned brighter. The next wave mounted in Laura’s vision. Body shields were no match for what was coming.

Dammit, Cress! Go up!

Cress’s arms moved. Laura bit her lip as she willed the
leanansidhe
to hear her. Cress’s arms floated out, then lifted. Laura almost laughed. She had heard. Cress’s mind was still in there. Clasping her hands over her head, Cress pointed up as the essence crested within her, burning with power.

She let go.

White essence geysered in a violent surge from her chest. Laura shouted as the torrent hit the dome and blasted it off its base. Chunks of masonry showered down, pum meling her body shield. Laura poured the last of her energy into her shield and prayed to whatever goddess would listen to her lost voice. Wild wind tore through the Rotunda as the raging column of light lit the night sky.

In the rumble of stone and bodies, Laura collapsed.

CHAPTER 38

LAURA SPIT SEDIMENT
out of her mouth. Cries and moaning filled the air. A cool breeze swirled through the gaping hole in the roof. She staggered to the center of the floor. Cress lay on her side, eyes closed, hiding those disturbing dark eyes. Laura laid a gentle hand on her, as Cress had done for her so many times. Her essence was faint, but there. She was alive. Instinctively, fine purple filaments waved up from Cress’s skin to suck greedily at Laura’s body essence. Relieved and revolted, Laura withdrew her hand.

A phalanx of Danann security agents swarmed through the dome, a brilliant indigo light plunging through their ranks. The edges of Terryn’s indigo wings burned white with speed. He landed and gathered Cress in his arms. Laura met his eyes for a fraction of second, saw pain and fear before he leaped into the air and vanished in a smear of blue light.

“Laura!” Sinclair swept her into his arms and kissed her. Kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. She laughed, kissing him back, running her hands up behind his head. He hugged her, and she let him, tucking her face into the side of his neck.

Slowly, the memory of where they were—and who she was—came back to her. She still wore the Mariel glamour. She released him and adjusted her jumpsuit with an embarrassed smile. She cleared her throat. “It’s good to see you, too, Officer Sinclair.”

He laughed and shook his head. “My apologies, Agent Tate. I don’t know what came over me.”

The smile faded from her face as she took in the scene behind him. Bodies lay everywhere amid the debris. She sensed pain and horror and relief. Orrin ap Rhys stood among the worst injured, directing the security forces. Laura’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized Resha Dunne lying facedown on the floor. She hurried to his side, relieved to see the spark of life in him as she neared. He stirred, lifting his head off the floor. She helped him up.

He rubbed at his mouth. “I need a drink of water.”

Laura straightened his tie. “This is nice. Hermès?” she asked.

He gave her look of utter bafflement as she walked away.

Sinclair grabbed her arm. “We have a problem.”

She followed the direction of his nod. Foyle stood near the gate entrance to the main floor. “That’s not Foyle.”

Laura narrowed her eyes at the man. He was too far away for her sensing field. “What do you mean?”

“I know Foyle’s shape. That’s not him. Besides, he was too wounded to stand,” Sinclair said.

Laura moved closer, saw there was no blood on Foyle anymore. Sinclair was right. Foyle’s essence hummed with power. Not human. It wasn’t Foyle. The man turned away from the scene and walked toward the exit. Laura ran after him and grabbed his shoulder. “Hold it!”

Foyle yanked away from her. “Unhand me!”

She blocked his way. “I don’t think so.”

He drew himself up. “I am Captain Aaron Foyle. Get out of my way.”

Laura wrenched the man’s shirt open to reveal a small gem on a gold chain. She tore the glamour off him. Foyle’s face shifted and blurred away as narrow, indigo wings swept upward. Laura fashioned a blade of essence in her hand.

“You’re not getting away this time, asshole.”

She plunged the blade into Alfrey’s head, and he dropped like a stone.

CHAPTER 39

LAURA WATCHED ALFREY
through the glass window. He remained poised as he reclined in his chair surrounded by tall obelisks of quartz that dampened his fey abilities. Terryn sat outside the wards, equally calm, as if they were discussing the weather. She searched Alfrey’s face for some remorse for the twenty-seven deaths at the Archives. She saw none. She felt a small satisfaction at the swollen bruise from his left ear to his chin and the way he forced air through the wired jaw.

“You are not like your father,” Alfrey said.

Indifference flitted across Terryn’s brow. “Unfortunately, you are much like yours.”

“Your father would be disappointed to see you now,” he said.

“Do not speak of my father again, Alfrey. I may forget myself,” said Terryn.

Alfrey snorted. “You forgot yourself a long time ago when you aligned yourself with the Danann scum.”

“I will not be distracted. Who are your allies?” asked Terryn.

Alfrey smirked. “My allies? My allies are who they’ve always been. The fey who resist the domination of the Danann usurpers. The Elvenking’s slaves. The humans who do not fear us.” He leaned forward. “And the true Inverni whose leaders failed them. Those are my allies, macCullen, and they grow in number with each passing day.”

Terryn stood. “I see we are done for another day.”

Alfrey chuckled. “Pray, do me a favor macCullen? When you see Tylo, tell him he, too, has fallen from the path of redemption. Tell him Triad was never his, and we shall prevail where he fails.”

Terryn didn’t respond. Laura fell in step with him as he left the room and walked to the elevator.

“How’s Cress?” she asked.

“Better. Recovering. She will survive,” he said.

They stepped into an empty elevator. “She was amazing, Terryn. She saved us.”

He nodded. “Yes. I’ve read the reports.”

“Is Blume cooperating?” she asked.

Terryn hit two buttons on the elevator panel. “At the moment, yes. I am playing on his gratitude for pulling him out of the Rotunda before Alfrey’s men trapped everyone else. He has been quite instrumental in identifying people for us.”

Laura stopped the elevator. Terryn arched a single eyebrow at her. “What’s going on with Alfrey is more than bad, isn’t it?”

“It will get worse,” he said.

“Can this really cause a war between the Dananns and the Inverni?”

He crossed his arms and stared at the floor. “The Seelie Court lied. The Treaty says what it says. Maeve has much to answer for, as do the U.S. and Britain. It may lead to something more than a civil war among the fairy clans.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t know. I walked away from all that years ago.”

Laura reached out and held his arm, a familiar gesture that felt awkward. “I will stand by you, Terryn. Whatever you need. Just ask.”

He started the elevator. “Thank you.”

At the seventh floor, she left him and returned to the public-relations department. Laura sat down to a stack of pink message slips. Hornbeck had called twice. She stared at the number, then dialed. He startled her by picking up himself. She didn’t realize it was his personal cell.

“How are you, Senator?” she asked.

“Better than some. I was happy to hear you made it out of there all right,” he said.

“Thank you. How can I help you?” she asked.

He chuckled. “After what happened last time I asked you for something, I’m surprised you would offer. No, I called to apologize personally for my role in the recent affair. If I hadn’t insisted on using Blume’s people, none of this would have happened.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Senator. The Triad sleeper agents were deeply embedded. Alfrey was planning this for years. If not the Archives ceremony, it would have been something else.”

He sighed on the other end of the line. “I can’t help feeling somewhat responsible. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know.”