by Clara Martin
Ambassador Watkins noticed. I had the feeling he missed very little. “Are you quite all right, Ms. O’Donnell?” he asked, frowning.
“Yes,” I said quickly. “I’m just fine. What’s going on? What did I miss?”
“We’re discussing the current political situation in Western Winds,” Gavin piped up. He smiled at me. “Perhaps – if he’s present – Eamon could join in,” he added hopefully.
“I am not,” I coldly replied, “a puppet for Eamon.”
“Of course,” he said hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were. I just thought that perhaps – if Eamon was present and he had thoughts –”
Ambassador Watkins coughed. “I believe what Gavin here meant to say,” he said mildly, “was that, in your capacity as Eamon’s bond-mate, could you relay any of Eamon’s thoughts to us?”
I frowned. I didn’t like that much better. “Eamon isn’t here,” I said stiffly.
“Au contraire,” an amused voice said in my ear. I glanced to the side. Eamon was leaning casually on my chair. He put on hand on my shoulder. “Are they really asking for my opinion? How droll.”
“They do think that you’re l’Inconnu,” I snapped, “and a destabilizing force in Kingdom of the Northern Sun. And possibly a counter to Prince Faolain –”
He dismissed my words with a wave. “All true,” he said drily. “Though, of course, my identity must remain a secret from my dear father and brother. They’d never even dream that half-human scum could rise so high. But how amusing, that your embassy wants my opinion. Do they really think I’d give them accurate intelligence?”
“I’d imagine,” I said coldly, “that they think it’s in your best interest to do so, considering that we also oppose Prince Faolain gaining the throne and invading the United States. It’s a natural alliance, here.”
Eamon chuckled, leaned down, and kissed my cheek. “My brother Charles will kill me for that,” he remarked. “You’re quite correct. Very well. Communicate to them, if you will, my willingness to enter into an alliance with the embassy of the United States of America.” His teeth flashed in a smile. “It won’t be the first time the United States has allied with a subversive rebel power.”
Gritting my teeth, I relayed the information. Ambassador Watkins, who had stiffened during the conversation, relaxed and leaned back in his chair.
“I am glad to hear it, Lord Eamon,” he said, his eyes trained above my shoulder – on the wrong side, I noted drily. “Let’s talk.”
“Yes,” Eamon agreed. I blinked. He was still holding my arm, but the golden fire surrounding him seemed to have intensified. Ambassador Watkin’s eyes grew round. “I can appear to others for a short time,” Eamon explained, “so long as I hold my bond-mate.” He looked at me lovingly. “Thank you, my dear.”
I flipped him off. He laughed. “So spicy,” he purred. Ambassador Watkins gave me a warning glance.
“Now,” Eamon said, getting down to business, “let us, as you Americans say, cut the crap. What do you want? I know what I want. I want the throne. Are you prepared to support me?”
“Perhaps,” Ambassador Watkins said, caging his fingers under his chin. “In return for some – considerations.”
“Considerations,” Eamon echoed mockingly. “Alas, alas, for those considerations. Yes, I will stand with you if Western Winds invades. No, I will not meet with you in Western Winds; it’s too much a risk to me. I will, perhaps, feed you information as it suits me. In return” with one hand still firmly clasped on my arm, he raised his other in admonishment – “for some…considerations from you.”
“I’m listening,” Ambassador Watkins said, cocking his head.
Eamon flashed a smile. “Excellent. First, as I will provide troops to support you, so you will provide troops to support me, should I ask it. I think you’ll agree it’s in both our interests. Second, you recognize me, when I ask it, as the legal king. Simple enough.” His fingers tightened on my arm, and I winced. “Are we agreed?”
The ambassador frowned. “I will have to take your requests to Washington.”
“Fine,” Eamon said, “But be quick about it. We’ll reconvene tomorrow, and I’ll hear your decision.” He let go of my arm and vanished. I let out a gasp – it was as though a rush of power had left me.
“Instructive,” the ambassador murmured. He looked at me. “Ms. O’Donnell, are you all right?”
“Yes,” I said, gasping. “Yes, I’m just fine.”
“Excellent.” He rose. “I think we’ve done enough today, gentlemen, Ms. O’Donnell. I don’t need to remind you to keep our discussions here secret. We’ll reconvene here in an hour and prepare to move out to the embassy in Western Wind.” He paused and looked us each square in the face. “Are you ready?”
Everyonenodded – I a shade unhappily. I still had no clothes aside from what I was wearing; I wanted desperately to speak with my mother and Charles, and I needed to make sure my medication was refilled. I left the room quickly and walked past the banks of computers and the people in constant motion, only to stand awkwardly by the door. I had no idea where I was supposed to go.
“Eileen?” I turned around. Maria was standing next to me, paper bag in hand. She handed it to me. “Your things from the hospital.” She directed meto a table. “Come over here and check it over, make sure everything’s there.”
I opened the bag. “There shouldn’t be much here,” I murmured. “Just my cell phone.” I pulled it out and turned it on. “Six missed phone calls from Charles and ten from my mother!” I pulled up my mother’s contact to dial.
“Eileen.” Maria stopped me. “Send a text. Technically, you shouldn’t even do that, but I’m being lenient. We’re under a communication blackout.” She looked at me sternly. “Do any more, and I’ll have to take the phone away.”
“Just one text?” I asked weakly.
“Just one,” she said firmly.
I nodded and typed.
Sorry. Have something I need to do. Back soon. All my love to the family and Charles. Watch the Wizard of Oz for me.
I pressed “Send” while Maria watched. She reached over, took my cell phone, and turned it off.
“I’ll keep this safe until you’re back from your mission,” she said. “None of the other members of the embassy are taking their cell phones, either; they’re all stowed together. Primary communication will be via Sending.”
I nodded. “Right, of course. What about medication? Clothes to wear?”
Maria pulled out a rolling leather suitcase. “Here. I had a personal assistant go on a shopping trip. You’ll have to try it on in Western Winds, but she has sympathetic magic; she can cast your body shape and size and guesstimate your size pretty accurately.” She paused. “Your medication is in the bag, thirty day’s supply. You won’t be gone that long, but we wanted to be sure you had enough.” She handed me the suitcase handle. “Anything else you need?”
Wordless, I shook my head. I thought of Charles, the way I’d kissed him before I’d left – the way he’d kissed me – the way he’d spent time with me when I’d been in the hospital. Would he wait for me? Would he still be there when I got back? Faolain’s face flashed before my eyes once more, and I felt his hands on my body. I shuddered fiercely.
“Eileen,” Maria said, “are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I played with the suitcase handle. “Just fine.”
She checked her watch. “You have about ten minutes before it’s time to leave.” Would you like anything to eat?”
“I could take a sandwich.”
Maria nodded and went over to a small refrigerator standing against the wall. She bent down and produced a sandwich, handing it to me along with a bottle of water.
“Eat quickly,” she said. “You won’t be able to in the Sending room.”
I blinked. “We’re not going by car?”
She shook her head. “You’re a member of an embassy, Eileen. You’re authorized to send not only voice, but also people, to the
embassy building in Western Wind.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. I supposed I should have expected it – this was Homeland Security, after all – but I’d never seen a Sending machine used to send people.
“It’s time,” Maria murmured as I stuffed the last bit of sandwich in my mouth and gulped down the water. “Let’s go.” We crossed back to the room we’d met the ambassador in; she bent down and muttered the passcode, and we entered. This time, as we entered, I noticed the Sending machine set up at the back of the room. It was larger than most, its glow stronger.
Ambassador Watkins, Gavin, Paul, and Jonas were already there, clustered off to the side and talking quietly. They stoppedas Maria and I approached, and I immediately felt wary and embarrassed. “Gentlemen,” I drawled in greeting.
“Ms. O’Donnell,” the ambassador said, “I see you have your luggage. Excellent. The sending machine will be starting up in just a few seconds.”
As he spoke, bright sparks of light arced off the sending machine, a few at first, and then a steady stream. Slowly they became a solid beam of light arching over the floor like a brilliant blue rainbow. The Sending machine beeped.
“There we are.” The ambassador sounded satisfied. “Maria?”
“I’m going first,” Maria explained to me. “Then you will follow, then Paul, then Gavin, then Jonas, and then the ambassador. Wait for my signal.”
“How will I know it?” I was talking to her back – she’d already started walking. “Poor planning,” I muttered vindictively. The ambassador gave me a sharp look but said nothing.
After a few seconds, the arch turned a vibrant shade of green. “There’s her signal, Ms. O’Donnell,” the ambassador said. “Go ahead.”
I nodded slowly and began to walk. As I passed through the arch, I felt a tingle of electricity and felt my hair stand on end. Then I was through.
Chapter 6
I walked into a tall, spacious ballroom with an arched ceiling and mosaic floor. I looked around, slightly awed. It reminded me of the Sistine Chapel. “This is the embassy?” I asked Maria.
“It is,” she said, smiling slightly at my expression. “Welcome to Western Winds.”
“Indeed,” the man standing next to her said. He was tall, with dark hair, a receding hairline,a strong jaw, and a bit of a paunch. He extended his hand. “I’m Harry De La Cruz. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hi,” I said, shaking it. “I’m –”
“Eileen O'Donnell, yes, I know. I’m the security chief here at the embassy. You’re more of an analyst, from what I understand” - “he gave me a wink – “but don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions or need anything.”
“I – thank you,” I said hesitantly.
“Heard about your recent trip to Northern Sun.The ambassador briefed us all on it. Did you really gut Prince Faolain by throwing a sword at him?”
I felt a chill. “How could you possibly have learned that?” I whispered.
He laughed. “We have intelligence assets – although, in this case, the story came from the NVRA. I believe your boyfriend briefed them, and then they, in turn, briefed us.”
“I had no idea you were so closely connected,” I said slowly.
Harry laughed again. “Exactly. You had – have – no idea.” He tapped the side of his nose and winked.
The arch turned green again, and Paul walked through. “Quite a trip,” he said. “I’ll never get used to that.”
“How many of those have you been through?” I asked, curious.
He thought a moment. “At least six, Ms. O’Donnell.”
“Quite a career,” I observed, offering a tentative smile. He didn’t smile back.
“It was,” he replied. I stopped smiling.
We waited in silence. I clutched the handle of my luggage, thinking once more of Charles. What, I wondered miserably, was he doing right now?
Gavin came through the archway, then Jonas, and then, finally, the ambassador, and, with a final sputter of sparks, the archway shut down. “Well,” the ambassador said, rubbing his hands together, “We have an audience with the qqueen tomorrow at six a.m. – we’re welcoming heras she rises from her bedchamber. It is – he checked his watch – “ten p.m. now. We’d best all get to sleep. We’ll meet down here tomorrow at four thirty, dressed in our best. Ms. O’Donnell, ask Maria to help you if you have any questions. Jonas, see me before you retire. Let’s go.”
He walked away, and the others rapidly dispersed in his wake. I stood alone, unsure of what to do
Maria came to my rescue. “You’ll be sleeping with me, Eileen. This way.”
I followed her through the embassy, marveling at the paintings as we wended through the halls. The resemblance to the Sistine Chapel stopped as we hit the side of the building; it became much more utilitarian. Maria led me to a small room there with two beds. I stood at the door, gazing around. It reminded me of my room at the hospital.
“Courtesy of Homeland Security,” she said wryly, tossing her bag down on a bed. “I’m turning in – I’m exhausted. Bathroom is right next to the room.” She opened her bag and collected some clothes out of it. She paused to smile briefly at me. “I know this is hard, Eileen,” she said gently, “but you really are serving your country.”
I tossed my bag on the bed with a thump. “Yeah,” I said bitterly, “look where that got me last time.”
“Hey,” Maria said, her tone desperately neutral, “Homeland Security pays well. Seventy thousand a year.”
I shrugged. “Just – just keep Charles’s secret safe,” I said, cutting her off. “And mine.” I pulled a nightgown out of my luggage and glanced at it. It was plain and white – the personal assistant had clearly gone the cheapest route when it came to nightwear.
“I’m changing in the room,” I said.
“Hard to believe you were in the Army, you’re so modest,” Maria teased.
I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah,” I said flatly. “Right.” I turned my back. I heard Maria sigh behind me and leave the room.
“What,” Eamon asked mockingly, “not happy with your roommate?” I turned. He sprawled languidly on my bed, surrounded by that same golden fire.
“Not a bit,” I said truthfully. “What are you doing here? You got what you wanted.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps,” he purred, “I simply wanted to see you.” He sat up, his eyes lingering on my mouth. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the most delectable mouth?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ll have to do better than that. You forget – I served in the Army. I heard that, much better, and much, much worse.”
Eamon put a hand across his heart. “And with that, I am slain,” he murmured. “Slain – slain – slain! By my cruel mistress, who shoots darts of fire with eyes that are as heavenly as she.” He darted me a glance. “How was that? I might write poetry in my spare time.”
“Unoriginal and trite,” I said coldly.
Eamon threw up his hands. “Fortunate, then, that it’s not mine, but one of the fae’s best and most prolific poets,” he remarked calmly. “You’re in a lovely mood tonight, my dear. You ought to be grateful to me – your connection to me has, after all, won you a post at a most prestigious embassy. Not many can say that they’ve served here. Many doors will open to you when you return.”
I thought of Charles and felt a wrench in my stomach. “I’m not doing it because of that,” I said quietly.
“There is the part where the U.S. government keeps your secrets, yes,” Eamon said languidly. “That is a decided benefit.”
“Do you know who told?” I demanded.
Eamon shrugged. “You’re not a very logical thinker, Eileen. It’s probably the schizophrenia. You already told the NVRA. They know about the bond. They could have very easily told Homeland Security – and probably did. Though it is certainly to my benefit that they did so.” He paused. “I’m assuming you’re referring to Charles, his status as my brother. As to that…” Eamon shrugged “Could�
�ve been Sarah. Could’ve been another escaped slave. Could’ve been a smart guess. Could’ve been that spy you have hidden in your NVRA headquarters… Who knows? I don’t.”
I shook my head. “Charles is going to kill me,” I whispered.
Eamon tilted his head back and laughed soundlessly. “We’re in a bit of a competition, Charles and I, so don’t expect me to reassure you” He rose. “For now, my dear, allow me to wish you a good night.” He lifted my hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss. “Au revoir, as they say here in Western Winds.” He disappeared.
I heard a gasp from behind me. I turned; Maria was standing there, clothes forgotten in her hands. She was slightly pale.
“I saw him,” she said, sounding shaken. “Just for a second. I had no idea he’d be so – so handsome…“ She peered at me. “That was Eamon?”
I nodded curtly.
“Does he look like his brother, Faolain?”
“Close enough,” I replied, repressing an involuntary shiver. I got into bed. “I’m going to sleep – four thirty will come early. Good night.”
“Good night,” she echoed and switched the light off.
My dreams were strange that night. I dreamed of Faolain tumbling to the ground, covered in blood; I dreamed of his hands all over my body, touching me; I dreamed of being pressed against the wall, unable to move. Then my dreams shifted, and I dreamed of Charles. He was sitting in a small office, wearing a well-cut suit, looking stern and professional, talking to an older man.
“I need to know where she’s gone,” he was saying.
The older man shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that’s highly classified.”
Charles leaned in, raising an eyebrow. “Fallujah,” he said simply.
The older man leaned back with a defeated sigh. “Fine,” he said. “Fine. But you didn’t hear this from me –”
The dream cut away then, back to the hospital when I’d been committed, handcuffed, and led away.
“Eileen?”
The voice penetrated the fog. I blinked slowly and realized I was in the embassy; that the lights were on; and that Maria was standing there, dressed. She wore a snappy suit, with her hair pulled back in a professional bun.
