Mark Del Franco - Face Off

Draigen set the glass down. “Given his position as heir to the Inverni, we have to assume that Terryn’s normal lines of communication may not be as open as usual.”

Terryn’s earlier words to Sinclair came back to her. As InterSec agents, they considered an array of possibilities, even the unlikely. Draigen’s line of inquiry, credible or not, was a fair part of that process, and her suspicion that Terryn might not be privy to a matter close to him wasn’t misplaced. “I would be glad to check my resources.”

“I was hoping you could work with my own security. My brothers Brinen and Aran are here as well. They lead our Guardian units,” said Draigen.

“Of course. Are plans still in place to meet with the U.S. president at the White House?” Laura asked.

Draigen glanced toward Terryn. The look indicated that some matter of discussion had gone on between them that hadn’t been settled. “My meeting will be at the White House. As Lord Guardians of the macCullen clan, both Brinen and Aran will accompany me.”

“You should take more staff,” Terryn said.

Draigen shook her head. “We’ve discussed this. Having fewer people will send the message that I am not concerned.”

“But I am,” he said.

“Terryn, dearest, the one thing the human leaders do not expect is an official who can physically defend herself. Brinen and Aran are macCullens. The White House is a secure setting. In the unlikely event a physical confrontation occurs, three Inverni can hold their own.”

Laura had no doubt that was true. She’d seen Terryn’s abilities over the years, and each time she wondered if he was holding anything back. The ruling chiefs among the Inverni rivaled the Dananns in power. “I’ll review the security arrangements, Terryn. I’m sure it will be fine. We coordinate with the U.S. Secret Service as well. Once Draigen is within the gates, the White House is the safest place in the world.”

He grunted. “It’s two blocks away.”

Draigen gave him a playful smirk. “You don’t want to take over if I die.”

Terryn glowered. “That’s not remotely funny.”

Draigen shook her head in amused exasperation. “My older brother never relaxes.”

“I have noticed that about him myself, Lady,” Laura said. As Draigen murmured in amusement, Terryn glanced at her with feigned insult. She meant her jest to solicit reaction and test the limits of her position. She didn’t know the nuances of their sibling relationship and did not want to assume too much familiarity on either side—treating Draigen as less than a royal as she did Terryn or teasing Terryn like his sister often did. Until she understood how the two of them felt about the other personally, she didn’t want to expose any perceived weaknesses in Terryn or provoke any irritation in Draigen. “But I’ve always found him diligent,” Laura said.

Draigen sighed. “And it seems he recruits staff as cautious as himself. So be it. If we must be so serious, let’s move on to the current situation. The Guildmaster here is going to be a problem, I believe.”

Terryn, don’t put me in this, Laura sent.

Draigen arched an eyebrow, and Laura swore to herself for being thoughtless. Powerful fey had a sensitivity to sendings. They couldn’t eavesdrop on them—no one could—but they could sense when sendings were passed. Sending in such a small setting with such an important figure was outright insulting.

“You’re right, Mariel,” Terryn said, further exposing that she had done the sending. He shifted his attention to Draigen. “She reminded me that her InterSec position would be compromised if she acted in a political advisory status.”

“I mean no disrespect, Lady Regent,” Laura said.

“None taken,” Draigen said. Truth, Laura sensed. She took what her brother said at face value. So a level of trust existed in both directions between them.

Terryn glanced at Laura. “Perhaps it’s best if we continue this conversation alone, Drai. I can advise Mariel of any security-related matters that arise.”

Laura stood. “I will leave you to your discussion. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Regent.”

Draigen bowed her head. “And I, you, Agent Tate. I believe Brinen and Aran are anxious to speak with you. The Guardians will escort you to them.”

THE INVERNI GUARDIANSwasted no time escorting Laura to a second suite down the hall. Inside, the furniture had been replaced with conference tables and chairs; more flat-screen TVs had been installed and several telephones. Humans in business suits mingled among the Inverni, security staffers from the Secret Service and Homeland Security. Laura sensed a distinct pause in the room when she entered as people took note of her arrival, some more discreetly than others.

Aran and Brinen macCullen showed little reaction to her presence, proceeding as if she had been expected. On the one hand, she found royalty often acted as if what they wanted to happen would happen. On the other hand, their attitude irritated her a little. Terryn could have at least asked about her schedule before throwing her into a meeting with them. He was as guilty of assuming she would do as she was told as his brothers. Yet there she was.

She saw that all the macCullen brothers resembled one another enough to be mistaken for each other—the height, the dark hair and green eyes, the regal manner—although Aran bore the more stocky body shape familiar among the Inverni. With Terryn, the royal bearing came off like aloofness. With Brinen and Aran, the attitude exuded much more assumed privilege. She had seen it before—the farther down the line of succession in a monarchial line, the more the person tended to emphasize the blood connection to the ruler.

Their resemblance wasn’t confusing for her, though. Their body signatures differed. While family members tended to resonate in a similar manner, the signatures themselves were like fingerprints, distinct and obvious to anyone who had the level of sensing ability to notice.

For all her private grousing, the brothers were courteous and professional. Without argument, they listened to the input of the other security agents who approached, while she facilitated the discussion. Much of the planning was already in place, so it didn’t take more than a few hours to review. With Draigen staying at the Guildhouse instead of a nearby hotel, the security plans were long-established procedures for the Guildhouse, leaving the primary focus on travel throughout the city. The macCullens were polite, receptive, and did not argue with her recommendations.

“I think that covers everything,” Laura said.

Brinen macCullen frowned as he worked on his laptop. Of the two brothers, he had asked more questions and acted as devil’s advocate for the plans. “I’m still not sure I see the need for a personal escort to the car. We’ll be operating in a fan pattern with aerial protection.”

Laura glanced down at the positioning charts. The escort—her—was unusual, but not unprecedented. “Given the active threat status against the Lady Regent, it seems prudent to have someone beside her.”

Aran didn’t visibly react to the statement as he shuffled through some folders. “Draigen might think it makes her look weak.”

“She might, but I disagree. Caution isn’t weakness,” said Brinen.

Unconvinced, Aran rocked his head from side to side. “I understand that. Still, she will object.”

Laura had noticed that the brothers had a habit of contradicting each other, particularly when it came to their sister. She pursed her lips as she considered how to speak diplomatically. “Gentlemen, I understand that, as Lord Guardians, you are under the direct command of the Lady Regent, but using the protocols for InterSec staff assistance means that InterSec determines the safety of a public figure over any objection of the person being protected.”