Face Off

CHAPTER 35

WITHIN HOURS OF sending law-enforcement agencies the names and pictures of the missing guards, a tip call came in on Rory Dawson, one of the missing Inverni guards who hadn’t shown up for Laura’s staff interviews. A hotel desk attendant thought he recognized the Inverni as the same man who had checked in two days earlier and hadn’t left. If there was an upside to human suspicion of the fey, it was that they paid attention when the fey were around.

Laura welcomed the interruption. Sitting in her office crafting press releases and talking points for Rhys made her angry. She had become so accustomed to generating whatever spin he wanted on a given topic, she realized she had stopped thinking about the people involved, the real people who would be affected by the things the Guildmaster said and did. Now, with its happening to Cress and Terryn, she remembered, remembered and felt guilty that she had become so indifferent. Bringing in an AWOL fairy was the perfect antidote to her mood.

She parked her SUV amid a sea of Guild and InterSec vehicles in the fire lane in front of the hotel in the southeast section of the city. The location was convenient, convenient being a matter of perspective. The stadium was not far for those who liked sports and an easy walk. The Washington Navy Yard sat to the south, a warren of naval support offices and a museum. The views left a few things to be desired. A view, for one. Parking lots and nondescript office buildings surrounded the hotel.

Inside the lobby, Aran macCullen worked behind the registration desk with a group of Inverni Guardians. They huddled around computer monitors while the hotel staff stood aside, their faces interested or apprehensive. Laura rested her hands on the counter. “That hardly looks subtle out front, Lord Guardian.”

He flashed her a smile. “He’s in a room in the back, Mariel. Hasn’t left since he checked in.”

“Is he alone?” she asked.

Aran shook his head. “We think he has a woman in the room. Human. We’re clearing the floor of other guests.”

“Has he been ordering room service?” she asked.

Aran looked over at one of the hotel staff. “Three, four times a day,” said one of the women.

Laura considered the situation as she surveyed the staff Aran had brought with him. The Inverni had a traitor among them. Sean Carr might have fired the gun at Draigen, but another Inverni had killed him, probably to silence him. Even though Rory Dawson was a suspect, any of the Inverni Guardian staff in the lobby could be allied with him or part of a larger conspiracy to assassinate Draigen. After running through all the macCullens’ personnel, she recognized people from subclans who reported to each of the macCullen siblings. Not the best way to isolate the problem, but the missing Guardian was being treated as an internal matter for Draigen. Too much conflict of interest for Laura’s taste. “I’m going in. I’d like a hotel staff uniform, please,” she said.

Aran arched an eyebrow at her. “He’s one of my people, Agent Tate. There’s no need for you to take an active role.”

She leaned in so that no one else could hear her. “Your people are trained primarily to engage other fairies, Lord Guardian. He won’t expect me.”

Subtle body movements among the men around Aran indicated he was conferring with them via sendings. Eyes shifted toward Laura and away, not all of them pleased. She decided to make her next comment private. If he escapes, it will not look good, she sent.

Brinen is setting me and my people up, Agent Tate. I will not let that happen, he sent.

Your men are on edge and resentful. I’m concerned they might overreact, she sent.

Aran drew down his eyebrows, not happy at her implication. “Fine. You can take the point.”

A Guardian gestured to the same woman from the hotel staff to precede him. Laura skirted the counter and joined them in a back room. The woman glanced at her with an appraising look as she sorted through uniforms on a rack. She handed over a maroon tunic. Laura removed the tight black zippered jacket she wore as part of her InterSec uniform. She slipped on the tunic, smoothing it down over her hips. The woman held out a pair of matching pants, but Laura shook her head. “This is as much polyester as I’m going to wear today.”

A nervous smile trembled on the woman’s lips as she returned the pants. She rummaged in a drawer in a nearby desk and gave Laura a badge that read ROOM SERVICE. Laura pinned it to her chest and met Aran at the elevator.

On the seventh floor, Guardians filled the elevator alcove, out of sight of the main corridor. “We’ve got troops outside the windows in case he tries to fly out. I want you to go in with two men as backup,” Aran said.

“They take orders from me. The civilian’s safety gets top priority,” she said.

“They’ll do their best,” Aran said.

She checked the staff position out on the floor. Guardians lined the corridor, giving Dawson’s room a wide berth. “Best isn’t what I want to hear, Aran. Unless this guy has skills you haven’t mentioned, he’s not getting out of here with all this security.”

Aran set his jaw. “Securing a threat to Draigen must remain our top priority.”

Essence sparked in her eyes. “Then we are in agreement. If a human gets injured in this, you’ll have a bigger problem than you have right now. Understood?”

Aran narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you speak this way to my brother?”

“Terryn? If necessary, absolutely,” she said.

His face became a mask. “Interesting.”

She tugged at the ill-fitting tunic. “Let’s get this going.”

Two Guardians followed her as she pushed a room-service cart down the hall. She stopped in clear view of the fish-eye lens in Dawson’s door while the guards hid to either side. When they charged their hands with essence, pale indigo light welling up from their palms, she knocked on the door. “Room service.”

Something fell inside the room. A woman laughed, followed by the sound of a deeper voice speaking, obviously annoyed. Laura tensed when the door shifted in its frame as someone leaned against it from inside the room.

“Did you order?” she heard him say. The woman spoke, but her reply was too muffled to hear.

“You freakin’ liar. There’s a damned cart out there. Don’t tell me you didn’t order anything. I’m not made of money.”

Louder, he spoke through the door. “Must be a mistake. We didn’t order.”

Laura made a show of checking an order ticket in case he was watching. “No mistake, sir. The orders are logged off the phone system. Room 734. I took the order myself, sir. It was a woman that called.”

Dawson yanked open the door. Wrapped in a towel, he reeked of alcohol. He swayed on his feet, eyes bloodshot, hair disheveled. Pinpoints of deep blue light flickering in his indigo wings. “I said we didn’t call.”

Laura swept her hands up, charging them with essence. “InterSec, stand down.”

Confused, Dawson stumbled back toward the frightened woman huddled on the bed. In the room windows beyond her, Guardian agents descended into view. Dawson hurried toward the bed as the windows shattered. Bolts of essence flashed through the room.

Laura rushed in, shouting, “Hold fire! Hold fire!”

Dawson jumped onto the bed and crouched over the woman. A Guardian raised an essence-charged hand. Dawson flung his hand out, feeble sparks of essence flickering blue around his fingers. Laura leaped forward, jabbing her shoulder into the middle of the Guardian’s back. His shot went wild as he lurched forward and fell against the foot of the bed. Still in motion, Laura rolled over him and activated her body shields as she landed on the disheveled bedding.

Dawson struggled to his feet, trying to stabilize his essence charge. “Thanks,” he said.

Laura grabbed him by the neck and thrust him facedown on the bed. “I’m not your friend, idiot.”

She put her foot on his neck as the Guardians jostled for space. The one who had fallen stood, his face angry as he raised his hands, charging up essence. Laura thrust her fist under his chin, bright gold essence light illuminating his skin. “I said hold your fire.”

He set his jaw but didn’t extinguish his essence. Laura pressed her fist harder, tilting his head back. “Go ahead. Try me.”

He glared, dousing his charge. Laura stared down the half dozen guards beyond her extended body shield. Behind her, the woman’s sobbing filled the sudden silence.

Aran entered. “Guardians, attend!”

They fell back to the perimeter of the room. Aran flicked his hand, and they exited. Laura lowered her fist and shot a small burst of essence against Dawson’s back. The man shuddered once and passed out. His essence didn’t match what she’d found in the morgue. He hadn’t killed Sean Carr.

Turning her back on Aran, she stepped off the bed and leaned over the sobbing woman. “Are you okay?” She didn’t answer. Laura pulled her to her feet. “Come with me. You’re safe.”

Wrapping her arm around the woman’s shoulder, she guided her around the end of the bed. She would turn the woman over to Guild security for protection. The operation had been a waste of time. Dawson was nothing more than a party boy who skipped out on his job. As she passed Aran, she glared at him. “He’s not our guy. I’ll be talking to Terryn about what happened here.”

She left him in the room to clean up the mess.