Face Off

CHAPTER 11

EARLY THE NEXT afternoon, Laura entered the small restaurant a few blocks from the Guildhouse. She paused near the hostess station, letting her eyes adjust to the dark room after the bright light outside. Given the circumstances, she had decided to appear as Mariel. Since she was going to make her first foray into the Legacy offices later, she decided to wear a physical outfit for Moor’s appearance and produce a glamoured one for Mariel, a warm taupe woven business suit over a cream blouse. A little softer than what Mariel usually wore, but the lunch was not business.

She spotted Cress near the back of the room and left the vestibule without waiting for the hostess to return. Sensing Laura’s arrival, Cress looked up, and brief disappointment flitted across her face. The expression made Laura curious as she slipped into her chair. “Hi, were you waiting long?”

Cress forced a smile. “Not long. A few minutes.”

“What’s wrong? I thought you had an odd look on your face when I came in.”

She shrugged. “For some reason, I was expecting you to look like yourself.”

“Don’t be silly. We’re in public.” Cress’s face fell, and Laura immediately regretted what she’d said. “Cress, that sounded so wrong. You know what I meant.”

Leaning back, Cress focused on the surface of the table. “I know. I understand that Laura Blackstone can’t be seen talking to the demon fey over breadsticks and butter.”

“Okay, not fair. You know I don’t think that about you.”

Cress sighed. “On a day-to-day basis, sure. But when I healed you, Laura, I felt what you felt.”

Weeks earlier, Laura’s body essence had been poisoned. The only way to save her life was to let Cress merge their body essences. The process Cress used to absorb the poison was raw and intimate, and not only on a physical level. For a moment, Cress and Laura had been aware of each other’s thoughts. Laura wasn’t proud that Cress learned of her fears about the leanansidhe, a fear that was ingrained in all the fey. A leanansidhe was difficult to fight since its ability was to drain essence—which was what the fey used to protect themselves. An attack by a leanansidhe meant death for all but the most powerful fey, and even those powerful enough had a challenge confronting them. Even given that, Laura felt that Cress had to recognize her determination to confront those fears. “Still not fair, Cress. I didn’t know what was happening. I most certainly didn’t think you were a demon fey. My essence was being invaded. I was panicked. I think anybody would have been.”

Cress played with the wrapper from her straw. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

They sat in awkward silence as a busser filled their water glasses. Laura shifted her chair closer to the table. “This got real heavy, real fast. I asked to have lunch with you because I thought you were upset about something and needed to talk. Is it me, or is it something else?”

Cress pressed her lips together. “It’s not you. I’m hearing rumblings that the Guildmaster is trying to boot me out of InterSec.”

“He can’t. InterSec is a multinational agency. It’s not under Guild authority,” Laura said.

Cress wasn’t convinced. “True, but he does control the Guildhouse. If he bans me from the Guild property, it amounts to the same thing.”

She had a point. A Guildhouse was sovereign territory of the High Queen, which allowed a Guildmaster to do what he or she wanted in the name of security. “The only reason he’d have for doing that is because you’re a leanansidhe, Cress. That’s racist, and everyone would recognize it.”

A cynical smirk curled on her face. “Just because I’m fey doesn’t mean I’m the right kind of fey. The fey are probably more racist than humans.”

“Maybe. But Rhys would still have to prove there’s something fundamentally dangerous about you, and that he can’t do. Not after your years of service, and especially not after the Archives.”

That few people talked about Cress’s success against the terrorist attack at the National Archives frustrated Laura. Cress had been largely responsible for minimizing the number of lives lost. She used her ability to absorb an explosion of lethal essence that could have killed several hundred people. Instead, fewer than thirty died, and that was because of damage that the bomb caused. The effort almost cost Cress her life, yet the only thing people talked about was whether she was dangerous to be around.

Cress smiled, not convinced, perhaps, but she saw a glimmer of hope. “The fact that I might have to defend myself is galling, though. It’s the last thing I need right now.”

Laura paused as the server placed their lunches on the table. “What do you mean? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely recovered.”

Laura arched an eyebrow. “Completely? You almost died, Cress.”

She speared a shrimp off her salad. “I’ve been able to replenish what I lost.”

Despite her defense of Cress, Laura resisted the urge to shudder. Leanansidhe survived by absorbing essence, the basic life force of everything. What made them such feared beings was their preferred source of nourishment: people. When a leanansidhe absorbed essence from someone, that person wasn’t likely to survive the experience. Cress had made a choice not to absorb essence from anyone without invitation. As far as Laura knew, Terryn was the only one who trusted her enough to allow it.

Laura wondered if that aspect of their relationship was the cause of Cress’s turmoil. Cress and Terryn weren’t simply work colleagues. They were lovers—a relationship that pre-dated Laura’s life at InterSec. Despite their different natures, Laura saw a relationship of deep commitment. It baffled her, in a way. She had enough trouble trying to figure out if she should allow herself a personal life without complicating matters by being worried that a significant other might accidentally kill her. “Terryn seems—distracted.”

Cress tilted her head. Her whiteless eyes appeared to stare and made people feel self-conscious. They bothered Laura, too, but she felt it had nothing to do with her being a leanansidhe but with normal social interaction. “He’s under pressure.”

Laura thought about Terryn’s unusual abruptness and anger at her debriefing. “I noticed. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cress stared. “You know Terryn. He deals with things in his own way.”

The answer didn’t surprise her. Terryn held his emotions close—which was why his obvious level of annoyance at Sinclair surprised her. Cress was the same way, which ironically was what probably drew her and Terryn together. They were friends, but Laura never socialized with them outside the office except for an occasional dinner at their apartment. The dinners tended to be quiet and, frankly, dull. The three of them came together through work, and while they depended on each other more than most colleagues, they all maintained a personal distance that prevented a more intimate friendship

Cress compressed her lips. “Have you ever met Draigen?” she asked.

Laura shook her head. “We’ve never crossed paths.”

Cress toyed with her salad. “She’s rather . . . conservative.”

“Does she know about . . .” Laura was going to say “you” but realized it would be a little tacky. “. . . your relationship?”

Cress didn’t look up. “So Terryn tells me.”

The Inverni were a proud people and a many-times-defeated one. They tended to be suspicious of outsiders, and Cress was about as outside as a fey could get. “Are you worried about something, Cress?”

She pulled her hair back and held it there as she decided what to say. “I’m worried she’ll kill me.”

Laura struggled for something to say. “That’s ridiculous, Cress. Draigen macCullen is not going to kill you. You’re not only a leanansidhe. You’re a person. We know that. Everyone knows that.”

“Not everyone.”

Laura conceded that—to herself. Cress was right. It was hard to believe that a person whose nature demanded she murder others to survive was anything more than a monster. After all these years, Laura had a hard time putting the thought out of her head. But Cress had moved beyond her nature, figured out a way to control it and become a real person. “Have you talked to Terryn about this?”

She shook her head. “He’s worried enough about Draigen’s visit. I don’t want to add to his stress.”

Laura let out an uncomfortable laugh. Cress wasn’t joking, though. “Terryn wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Cress.”

Cress looked away. “He can’t be with me all the time.”

As regent, Draigen ruled the macCullen clan—and, by virtue of that, all the Inverni. The idea that she might put Cress in danger wasn’t far-fetched. Fairies could be vindictive. “Do you seriously think Draigen macCullen is going to kill you?”

She stared. And stared. “No. I think she may want to, but she won’t.”

Laura pointed at her. “Then you need to stop thinking about it. If you want the rest of the world to believe you’re not a danger, you need to stop thinking everyone believes it. You need to live your life, Cress.”

She drew her words out with resignation. “You’re right. Old habits die hard.”

Laura sipped of her iced tea while she considered what further to say. “If you want my advice, you and Terryn both need some time to yourselves and to stop worrying about what everyone else is going to do—including Draigen. I might not know her from a hole in the wall, but Terryn asked her to lead the Inverni because he knew she could handle it. And you have to remember this isn’t the sixth century. She’s not some warrior queen out to kill a ghostly demon.”

Cress bunched her shoulders as she made a decision. “I think Terryn and I need to have a long talk.”

Laura grinned. “Good. When you do, tell him if he doesn’t want my fragile ego shattered, he needs to knock off the cranky.”

Finally, Cress smiled an honest smile. “I’ve been trying to do that for years.”