Mark Del Franco - Face Off

“Yes, sir,” he said.

Laura shot a curious glance at Terryn. “Where were you when the Lady Regent was fired upon?”

“Here, ma’am,” he said.

“The Guildhouse?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

His abrupt responses baffled her. “Where in the Guildhouse?”

“Here, ma’am,” he said.

“Here?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The urge to snap at the brownie welled up within her. He didn’t seem to be uninformative on purpose. She reminded herself that she had been asking fruitless questions all day, and he hadn’t. She reviewed his answers in her head when realization struck her. “You mean you were in this room at the time of the sniper attack, Davvi?”

“Yes, ma’am. As I said, ma’am.” The look on his face seemed puzzled that he needed to clarify.

Truth permeated his words. Davvi Norrin worked in an exacting environment and had learned to be careful, if too precise. She gave up. “I think we’re fine, sir. Thank you for your time.”

He hesitated, confused perhaps or unsure. He stood and bowed. “Thank you, Agent Tate.”

Surprised yet again, she cocked her head. “How do you know my name?”

A subtle shift in his shoulders passed as a shrug. “I schedule the Lady Regent’s business, ma’am.”

She smiled, sincerely. “Thank you. The Lady Regent is lucky to have you.”

He bowed again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Laura swiveled her chair toward Terryn. “I think I was just trumped in an interrogation.”

Terryn stared out the window, focusing at something across the way on the Mall. “Davvi’s been with my family for as long as I can remember. He wouldn’t tell you the time of day if he thought you would use it against a macCullen. We called him the Stone when we were children.”

“That’s loyalty,” she said.

Terryn didn’t move from the window. His pointed wings stood straight up from his back, their pale blue translucence flickering with shots of white and indigo. Tension wrapped around him like a veil. “And hard to come by these days.”

She pushed her notes aside and joined him by the window. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I had Jono stationed in the park as a hidden backup. No one knows that. He noticed the protection barrier weaken before Draigen came out. It was subtle and happened twice. That means the shield wasn’t interfered with by natural means.”

“What are you suggesting?” Terryn asked.

Laura gave him a significant look. “Someone among the Inverni Guardians might be a traitor. The weakness happened on Aran’s end of the barrier. Someone who knows Aran would also know how he builds his spells and be able to interfere with them.”

Terryn pursed his lips. “We’ve already established that Sean Carr was the perpetrator.”

Laura crossed her arms. “I’ve established he wasn’t working alone. I have a body signature tag on a possible accomplice.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s why you wanted to do these interviews in person.”

She gazed into the distance across the Washington Mall. “It was a bit of a bluff. Davvi was the last on the list. I’ve eliminated seventy-nine people. We had two no-shows, both Inverni Guardians. Rory Dawson is attached to Draigen’s house staff, and Uma macGrath is with Aran. Everyone was told this was mandatory. I’d like to put out a warrant on them if you’re okay with that.”

A muscle pulsed along his jawline. “Do whatever is necessary, Laura. You don’t need my permission.”

It struck her that she didn’t. Besides the fact that he was on leave, Genda would likely rubber-stamp her request. Terryn’s emotions rubbed against her sensitivities. He managed to remain hard for her to read, but she was sensing pain and anger beyond what she would expect from the attempt on Draigen’s life. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Cress’s car was set on fire last night,” he said.

Laura’s chest tightened. “Was she . . .”

“She’s safe,” he interrupted. “Her house-confinement agreement doesn’t allow her to travel. The car was on the street. The location had been leaked. People have been gathering outside the building, throwing things and yelling.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Terryn.”

Essence flickered in his wings as his anger built. “Someone set her car on fire not thirty feet from my front door in full view of the Guild security agents, and they did nothing.”

Anger heated her chest. “Terryn, you have to let me say something to Rhys. This has got to stop before someone gets hurt.”

He shook his head. “Your position is too valuable, Laura. I don’t want to see us all destroyed because of Rhys’s obsession with my clan. I will have Draigen dispatch Inverni Guardians to protect the building.”

She moved in front of him, so he wouldn’t miss her serious expression. “Don’t do that, Terryn. Rhys will exploit it. The last thing you need right now is having the Inverni court seen as protecting Cress.”

She regretted saying it as soon as she heard herself. The pained look on Terryn’s face struck her in the stomach. She touched his arm again. “Don’t misunderstand me. Cress is my friend. I’ve been arguing her case with Rhys for days.”

He closed his eyes. “I know. It’s still hard to hear. No one has any idea what she means to me. No one can.”

She crossed her arms and stared out the window. “Of course not. That’s the nature of any relationship, isn’t it?”

“I need to protect her.”

“Leave that to me. I’ll talk to Genda. InterSec is the most neutral party we have right now,” she said.

He managed, if not to smile, at least not to look as upset. “Thank you. I think if we get through the next few days until Draigen leaves, Rhys will move on to something else.”

She rubbed his shoulder. “We will. In the meantime, let’s not tell anyone I have this body-signature tag.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “By which you mean my family?”

She lowered her gaze to lessen the sting of what she had to say. “You have a traitor among your people, Terryn. It’s not that I don’t trust your family, but they trust someone they shouldn’t. We’re working a long shot, and the wrong word to the wrong person could ruin the whole thing.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s difficult advising you and my family at the same time.”

She murmured a laugh. “Welcome to my world.”

His face clouded over as he stared out the window again. “You have my sympathy.”

TERRYN’S WORDS DIDN’Tchange Laura’s stress at juggling multiple jobs. She appreciated his sympathy, of course, but she didn’t have a choice of skimping on any of her responsibilities. As she worked through the mountain of paper on her public-relations desk, sympathy didn’t make things any easier when she was falling behind.

Saffin carried a small lamp into the office and set it on a low filing cabinet. She threaded the cord down, struggled to plug it in between the cabinet and the wall, then switched on the blue-white light to illuminate the new plants. “That should help.”

Guilt-stricken, Laura ducked her head. “I’m not very good with plants, am I?”

Saffin made a disappointed face. “It’s a crime, really.”

“Gee, thanks. On a more sincere note, thanks for taking care of those files the other day.”

Saffin’s gaze darted to the door as she kneaded her fingers together. She looked at Laura, then nudged the door closed with her foot. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

Laura pursed her lips. “I’ll promise to listen.”

Saffin eased into the guest chair. “When I put away those files, I, um, didn’t do it immediately. I read them.”