Mark Del Franco - Face Off

Brinen and Aran exchanged cryptic expressions. “Have you ever disagreed with our sister, Agent Tate?” Brinen asked.

Laura gave them a small smile to show she knew what they were going to say. “I have not had the pleasure.”

Aran pushed his laptop away. “I will ask Draigen for her approval before we can agree to this.”

“I am not authorized to agree to that,” she said.

He shrugged dismissively. “I can speak with Terryn, if necessary.”

Terryn wasn’t likely to overrule her assessment; but then, she wondered if he might, given that his family was involved. “I was going to suggest that myself.”

Aran glanced around casually before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Speaking of Terryn, as his counselor, I was wondering if you would provide some insight regarding the leanansidhe ?”

The last thing Laura expected was to talk about Cress. Considering Cress’s fears and concerns, Aran’s careful nonchalance with the question made her wary. “Insight?” she asked.

Brinen looked sharply at Aran, annoyance on his face. A long pause hinted that the two of them were conversing through sendings, neither of them happy about the conversation. Aran glared at his brother but directed his comments to Laura. “Yes, insight. How would you characterize its influence on our brother?”

As Cress had suspected, her existence was a problem for the macCullens. That Aran didn’t use her name, which he had to know, didn’t bode well for the idea she would be accepted by them. Laura kept her tone neutral. “Terryn’s personal relationships are not something I feel comfortable discussing without his leave.”

Aran smiled. “He names you his counselor, does he not? We are members of his court and also his counselors. It is customary for us to speak openly among ourselves.”

Laura almost laughed at the level of false tones in his voice. Whatever information the two shared between them, it was clear it wasn’t everything, no matter how openly Aran wanted to imply. “I am an advisor in his role as an InterSec director, Lord Guardian, not his counselor as underKing to the Inverni.”

Aran made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “A distinction without a difference. Surely their relationship would be a concern for InterSec as well.”

“Not that I am aware.”

“Its influence must give you pause,” he said.

“Her name is Cress,” Laura said, putting a subtle but clear emphasis on the pronoun. “And, no, her influence, as you call it, does not concern me.”

Aran arched an eyebrow and glanced at his brother again. “Perhaps I should mention that I am well versed on this subject, Agent Tate. I’ve met many people over the years who can attest to the rather insidious nature of these creatures. Do not underestimate her. She exerts influence in ways you may not be aware of.”

“I do not see the value in this conversation,” said Brinen.

Aran pinched his lips. “The clan is at risk, brother. The leanansidhe complicates matters of court. I am concerned for our unity.”

Brinen smiled tightly. “Which our sister provides unless Terryn decides otherwise. I do not see the need to raise issues that do not need to be raised.”

Aran barely hid his disdain. “Need not be raised? Have you any idea of the type of people interested in these monsters? Not all of them have our best interest at heart as you do, dear brother. I do not wish to see the macCullen clan targeted because of it.”

“It will only produce tension at a critical time, brother,” said Brinen.

“And yet, you are often the first to criticize the underKing about the matter,” Aran said.

Brinen drew himself up stiffly. “I have never criticized the underKing. I have merely expressed reservations about his involvement with the leanansidhe .”

Laura shifted in discomfort at the turn in conversation. Druids had a long history as advisors to rulers, but fairy politics was an area she preferred to avoid. Too many old grievances to track and too much double-dealing. The immortality of faeries made for long-term strategies, and alliances shifted without notice and sometimes without obvious reason. “Perhaps these are issues best left to Terryn.”

As if Laura were no longer present, Aran sneered at his brother. “The clan will not accept his leadership as long as he continues to mate with that thing.”

Laura stood abruptly, attracting the attention of others in the room. “ ‘ That thing’ is a friend of mine, sir. Whatever prejudices we have all had against the leanansidhe do not apply to Cress. I will thank you to remember that.”

Brinen and Aran were taken aback by her tone. She clenched her jaw as she gathered her files. Lord Guardians apparently were not accustomed to being snapped at. Laura didn’t care. “I will review the remaining issues with Terryn, gentlemen. Thank you for your time and attention.”

Before they could speak again, she walked out. Despite her tone, she showed no further visible indication of her anger. Cress had been with InterSec for decades. If an international agency that dealt with high-level security issues saw fit to keep her on staff, the Inverni had no cause to question her competence. And yet they did, so focused on their own agendas and problems, they couldn’t see beyond their limited experience. If they were going to make Cress a problem, Laura was going to make sure it was their problem, not Cress’s.

IN ORDER TOgain more time in her day, Laura had spent the night in Mariel Tate’s corporate suite a few blocks away. Skipping the commute from Alexandria saved her at least an hour. The elevator arrived blessedly empty in the parking garage. An empty elevator meant no curious stares from other passengers when she got off on the seldom-used back hall of the Guild accounting department. When the doors opened, she crossed the small elevator lobby to the door that led to her private room. She dropped the folders on the bed, making a mental note to retrieve them later. As she shifted out of her glamour, Mariel’s long dark hair swirled up and away back to Laura’s natural blond. She changed out of her gray suit. Mixing clothing between Mariel and Laura had been one of the ways Saffin pieced together her undercover work. She didn’t want to make that mistake again.

She sorted through the ranks of shoes along one wall and caught herself muttering. While the macCullen brothers’ demeaning references to Cress justified her anger, she realized she was also angry with herself. She understood their fears. Leanansidhes were dangerous. She had seen Cress’s power, and, yes, she feared it herself. The only thing keeping Cress from submitting to her inherent nature was force of will and the steadfast support of Terryn. Without both of those, none of them knew what would happen. Despite that, if she could try to put aside her deep-seated fears as she’d told Cress, so could the macCullens.

She slipped on her shoes and checked the outfit in the mirror. As Laura Blackstone, she always looked the consummate businesswoman, stylish and no-nonsense. In control. She had to be to maintain her public personas. Like Cress. But she also knew cracks were forming in the masks she presented to the world. She didn’t feel like herself. She didn’t know what that meant anymore.

If Cress let herself be herself, she would be draining the living essence from anything she could get her hands on, people in particular. She would be a serial killer, plain and simple. Or she could continue as she was now, keeping focused on assimilating into society without resorting to killing to survive. It wasn’t a choice, not for someone with any kind of conscience. And if Laura was feeling the stress of constantly presenting a façade to the world, what did that mean for Cress? What would happen to her if Terryn’s love and support were removed?