Mark Del Franco - Skin Deep

Where are you, Jono? she sent.

Public Vault. His sending came through rough and faint.

She breathed a short-lived sigh of relief. The Public Vault was on the opposite side of the Rotunda from her. Any fey support with you?

Foyle, he responded. The sending sounded forced and broken. Either she was too far away from Sinclair or his weak ability was failing. She was losing time. A short flight of steps separated her from the Rotunda. She bowed her head and said a prayer of protection. Tightening her body shield, she sank to the floor and crawled up the stairs. Another essence-bolt sparked around her. Laura screamed in panicked alarm, holding her hands out.

“Help! I’ve been shot!” she shouted.

Keeping her head down, she sensed an Inverni above her. She hunched forward, gathered essence in her chest, and released it in a single burst. She ran as it struck, and the Inverni fell. At the top of the stairs, she yanked him out of sight behind her.

On the opposite side of the loge, a door led to the Public Vault. She peered around the corner. Inverni fairies lined the loge area, powering an essence barrier across the entrance gate to the Rotunda. The barrier sizzled and crackled with light as the fey trapped inside fired at it. She leaped into a roll across the floor, wildly firing as she came up onto her feet. The Inverni returned fire, but their shots went astray.

She leaped over two prone humans at the entrance to the Public Vault, Capitol police officers who hadn’t even drawn their weapons. She didn’t stop to check if they were alive. Racing through the documents exhibit, she weaved in and out of display cases and room dividers to the back. Sinclair’s head rose from behind a bank of computer displays and waved her in.

“Get down!” she said. He ducked as she joined him behind a panel. Foyle lay on the ground, his uniform coat and open shirt soaked in blood. His gun was on the floor beside him. “Is he alive?”

Foyle’s eyelids fluttered open. “Yeah, he is. What’s the situation?”

“Unknown number of hostages in the Rotunda. What’s back here?” she asked.

“They made a sweep and took everyone down. We’re the only two left,” said Sinclair.

“Is the president inside?” she asked.

Foyle shook his head. “We aborted in time.”

Laura exhaled in relief. The fallout from the attack was going to be bad enough without the added nightmare of a trapped sitting president. She threw out her hand for silence. A faint whir carried on the air, the sound of gossamer wings in flight as they shunted essence. A wave of Inverni essence swept over them and passed on.

Laura waited until she no longer felt them. “They’ll be back. Can you move, Foyle?”

He shook his head. “Two hits. Leg and chest.”

Laura looked up at Sinclair. “We’ve got to get into the Rotunda. There’s a bomb.”

“Where the hell is our backup?” Sinclair said.

“Fighting to get in through the entrance,” she said. She leaned out to check the area. “Give Foyle your gun,” she said to Sinclair. Sinclair checked the clip and handed it over.

Laura crouched in front of the downed officer. “Hero time, Foyle. You up for it?”

He gave her a crooked grin. “If I recall, you don’t like hearing no.”

She smiled back. “Good man. I’ll do everything I can to come back for you. Do not let those Invernis come in behind us.”

He grabbed Laura’s arm. She and Sinclair helped him into a better vantage point. Foyle placed both his and Sinclair’s guns in his lap. “For what it’s worth, Agent Tate. I’m sorry I listened to the wrong people.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Apologize later. Good luck.”

She grabbed Sinclair by the arm and pulled him into the open. Halfway to the exit, shots rang out behind them. No one followed them.

They stopped at the loge. “What’s the plan?” asked Sinclair.

“Unbutton your shirt,” she said.

He smirked. “Danger turn you on?”

She lowered her brow at him. “We need to get through that essence shield. Make sure I can get at that medallion of yours.”

He started to lift the chain. “Just take it.”

She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “We’ll keep your fey nature secret if I can salvage that. If not, don’t worry. I’ll rip it off your neck.”

He smiled. “I love it when you talk like that.”

She thumped him on the chest. “Stop it. We’re going to charge the barrier. The moment we’re through it, hit the ground.”

He peered out the door. “Isn’t the point of the barrier to keep us out?”

She nodded grimly. “Gambling time. I’m betting on your grandfather for help. Come on. And don’t get hit.”

They charged the Rotunda gate, streaks of essence leaping from Laura’s hands. More Inverni opened fire on them from the far end of the loge. Laura picked out essence waves from at least six Inverni maintaining their barrier. Laura shoved Sinclair toward the entrance gate. He stumbled in surprise as he hit the barrier and froze in place.

Spinning away, Laura hardened her shield and focused an essence shot on the Inverni directly above her. His head snapped back, and he fell hard inside the Rotunda. Without him, a thin spot formed in the essence barrier.

Laura lunged at Sinclair. He hugged her to his chest as they collided. She screamed as essence raked across her back. The barrier resisted them, slowing their momentum. Essence-fire burned through her body shield, and Laura screamed again. She clutched Sinclair’s medallion and fired essence directly into it. Its field exploded in size. The essence barrier thinned. She hit the medallion again. Its field ripped a hole in the barrier, and they fell through. Laura landed on top of Sinclair with a gasp as the wind left her.

Sinclair’s eyes went wide. He rolled and wrenched her with him as a bolt of indigo lightning scorched the floor. An Inverni had followed them through the barrier. Laura scrambled up, dazed. She thrust out her hand. A gunshot exploded in the air. The Inverni’s cheekbone shattered in a spray of blood. Laura looked down at the gun in Sinclair’s hand. “I thought you gave your gun to Foyle.”

“You didn’t say both guns,” he said.

Fanned around Sinclair and Laura, fey of every stripe ranged in an arc and fired at the barrier. Behind them, human and fey diplomats huddled against the wall, a riot of body shields creating layers of protection. Laura picked out Hornbeck near the back of the crowd under a distorted layer of essence generated by Resha Dunne. Blume was nowhere in sight.

At the back wall, the emergency alarms had activated, and the display cases were empty. Except one. The Treaty had reached the Rotunda. Cress stood in front of it, gripping the edges of the casement.

“Can you stop it?” Laura whispered.

Cress held up a hand for silence. A complex maze of essence enclosed the Treaty, an intricate web of layers within layers. Security and preservation charms and bindings pulsed and vibrated in rainbow hues of essence. Beneath them all, a deep green orb radiated with a force that burned against Laura’s skin.

“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.