I’ve scanned the room, but I would like you to confirm for me, Terryn sent. His concern about eavesdropping didn’t surprise Laura. The Inverni might be part of the Seelie Court, but that didn’t mean the clans trusted each other, especially if they were in one of High Queen Maeve’s Guildhouses.
Lifting a languid hand, Draigen focused ice blue eyes on Laura. “My brother insisted I arrive with little fanfare to ensure my security.”
Rather than touching her forehead to the extended hand, Laura clasped and shook it once. Draigen withdrew, a surprised but unoffended look on her face. “It is a pleasure, as well.”
While they spoke, Laura swept the room with her sensing ability, testing for listening wards, but found none. She assumed Terryn had had someone do a sweep for electronics. “The area is clear, Terryn.” The oddity of the situation amused Laura. Protocol often conflicted with reality. Terryn, as heir to the macCullen clan leadership, outranked his sister, yet Laura was allowed by the rules to address him by his name while using a formal title for his sister.
Terryn remained focused on the view out the window. “Draigen is settling in, but I wanted you to meet as soon as possible. I’ve told her she can call upon you at any time in my absence.”
Laura had no problem with such assignments, but it was unusual for Terryn to give the “any time” access when she was running an undercover persona. She’d deal with any conflicts it created, but she wasn’t thrilled he hadn’t informed her beforehand. She would have at least liked some input.
“Why don’t we sit?” Draigen gestured to the sitting area. They arranged themselves around a low coffee table, Terryn and Laura in opposite armchairs while Draigen occupied the center of a long sofa.
“Will you have any specific needs from me, Lady Regent?” Laura asked.
Draigen leaned back, her black skirt sliding open to reveal black leggings. Even in a casual posture, she didn’t seem relaxed. “Terryn tells me you have insights into the workings of this Guildhouse.”
Laura glanced at Terryn, wondering how far he had gone in that telling. She didn’t think he had revealed her Guild position as Laura Blackstone. With the heavy warding in the room, Draigen likely would have spoken more openly about it. If she accepted Mariel Tate’s bona fides on Terryn’s word alone, though, that confidence said much about their relationship. “I’ve been in Washington a long time, Lady Regent.”
“Please, call me Draigen,” she said.
“I don’t think I can do that, ma’am,” said Laura. She meant it. Protocol might justify her not bowing, but that didn’t mean she could treat Draigen as a friend. It was one thing to be on a first-name basis with Terryn. His monarchial status was like an entry in a biographical sketch—something that identified him but didn’t define him. Draigen, however, was the regent of a major fairy clan. For all practical purposes, she was an acting underQueen, outranked only by Terryn and High Queen Maeve.
Draigen let out a soft laugh, as if she was surprised at the sound she made. “I appreciate that and thank you. I don’t often find myself respected for my position these days. If you must, call me Lady, then. If Terryn names you friend, I hope we shall be so as well.”
“As you wish, then,” Laura said.
A servant entered the room, placed small glasses of whiskey on the table, then slipped out. Among the many traditions some fey liked to keep, toasting to new acquaintances was ritual. They each retrieved a glass and held them out.
“May our meeting grow our shared purposes,” said Draigen.
“May our hopes light the way to tomorrow,” said Terryn.
“May our hands join in friendship,” Laura said.
“Slainte,” said Draigen. Terryn and Laura replied the same. They drained their glasses.
Draigen held on to her glass, rolling it in the palm of her hand. “I have had several assassination threats prior to this journey. I wonder if you believe this Guildhouse would be involved.”
Laura debated whether the question revealed a high level of paranoia or a credible assessment of her situation. Someone in Draigen’s position always had to be aware of physical threats, but in Laura’s experience, some high-level people gave the routine more credence than necessary. “The politics of the Washington Guildhouse can be quite nuanced, Lady. Its mission is to facilitate the High Queen’s will with the U.S. government. I’m sure Terryn would agree that destabilizing one of its own constituencies has never been part of its mission.”
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.”
CHAPTER 18
THE INVERNI GUARDIANS wasted 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.”
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 ruler
s, 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.
CHAPTER 19
IN ORDER TO gain 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.
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