Skin Deep

CHAPTER 28

LAU RA JUMPED AT the blare of a car horn, surprised she had wandered into the crosswalk not far from the entrance to the Vault. Too much in your head again, she thought, annoyed. She had stamina, but the physical toll on her was affecting her mentally and emotionally as well. She was letting herself get distracted, and in her line of work, that could be fatal. Even Gianni had said as much when she questioned him about Sanchez. Every error, even small ones, had consequences.

She approached the SUV with her keys already out. As she played with the ring to separate the ignition key, it slipped from her hand. A wave of dizziness swept over her when she bent to pick up the ring. Light-headed, she leaned a hand against the SUV. The mead had been strong, but it was only one drink. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself, annoyed that Terryn was right. She was overextending herself. Running multiple personas was possible, but not without enough sleep.

She slid into the driver’s seat and watched the front door of the Vault. Her mind wandered to Sinclair. Again. Either he was playing her well, or he was genuinely interested in her. She was letting Sinclair get to her, and damned if she could come up with a good reason why not. People hit on her-it was part of the Washington scene whether or not anyone admitted it-but Sinclair had something sincere about him that attracted her, despite the fact that he lived a lie, pretending to be a human normal. She could understand that, too. It only served to enhance his appeal. He could have hidden in any number of occupations, unseen, undetected, but he chose law enforcement. That said a lot about him as far as she was concerned.

The night reached its tipping point, and people left the club in larger numbers. Black cars and limos pulled up, and a series of businesspeople departed with their security guards. At closing, a cluster of patrons spilled out, followed by security staff. A flurry of waitstaff left in the final wave. The outside door of the Vault closed for the last time. A lone light remained on as the club closed for the night. Still no sign of Alfrey.

You still there? Laura sent Sinclair.

Yes.

Did you see Alfrey?

No. Gianni’s gone, too.

She tapped the steering wheel. Gianni hadn’t left in his truck, so he must have left another way. She scanned the floors above street level. A few lights were on, but no one moved in the windows. Either Alfrey had settled in for the night, or he’d left another way. Fairies thought nothing of hopping out windows.

I’m going to the apartment. Send if you need anything.

She pulled in to traffic. A car horn beeped. She looked up at the red traffic light. She hit the brakes in the middle of the intersection. Swearing under her breath, she realized she was on the wrong street. She turned wide at the next corner and wrenched the steering wheel back to compensate. The SUV swayed. Nausea welled up in her stomach.

At the next red traffic light, she closed her eyes against the glare of an oncoming car. Her eyes felt sore and gritty from too little sleep. A car horn sounded, and she realized she had driven over the center line. She jerked the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. Sweat blossomed on her forehead. She was blocks away from the traffic light where she’d closed her eyes.

A buzz filled her head, a static, crackling hiss. She cast out around her and felt nothing. She was head-blind again. She reached out to the dashboard to call Terryn when something jolted the SUV. The stench of essence-fire on metal surrounded her. She called up her body shield, straining with the effort. She blacked out.

Consciousness returned in a flash of headlights and careening cars. Panicked, Laura swerved. The SUV jumped the curb and scraped a mailbox. She lurched to a stop, and she took a deep breath. Drugged. The sluggish thought drifted up. Something in the mead. It was too fast, too sudden to be anything but a drug. Gianni. He had to know it would be obvious to her that he did it. Which meant he didn’t care if she knew.

She gathered a burst of essence for a sending, but it shredded and dissipated. She was head-blind. She had the uneasy sense that she’d known that already. She tried to call Terryn from the dashboard system, but her eyes wouldn’t focus. Leaning across the seat, she fumbled in her handbag for her cell phone. The smooth case felt slick in her hand and her fingers slipped off its edges. As she opened it, she lost her grip and dropped it. Leaning forward, another wave of nausea hit. She groped along her sleeve for her InterSec transmitter, then swore aloud. Her fingers felt thick and numb, and she couldn’t find it on her skin.

Twisting in the seat, she attempted to climb in back for her duffel bag to get the secondary transmitter she kept in it. She slumped sideways when she released the seat belt, the sudden motion unsettling her. As she crawled between the seats, her stomach undulated violently. For a moment, her head cleared, and her stomach lost its cramped grip. Digging in the duffel, her hand closed on the transmitter.

She awoke twisted between the front seats with her head toward the back. Her body shield was activated. Someone yanked on the passenger-door handle, a male voice shouting. He sounded far, far away. Not friendly. With a limp hand, she shot essence in the direction of the voice. White light danced and ricocheted through the car. She passed out again, street noise and warm air rushing over her.

Her eyelids, thick and sluggish, resisted opening. An incessant static buzzed in her head. A shudder ran through her as feeling returned to her body. She hadn’t realized she was numb. She shifted out of an awkward position and felt the SUV moving. She struggled to open her eyes. The street scape tore by the windows in a blur of lights, smears of red and yellow against the darkness.

Terryn was at the wheel. His face was grim as he looked over his shoulder at her. “Can you hear me?” he asked. Can… hear…? he sent.

“Head-blind,” she said. She thought she said it. She wasn’t sure her lips moved.

She blacked out again. Something burned in her chest. A deep warmth, not painful, a glowing ember of soothing essence. She wasn’t moving. The SUV wasn’t moving. She smelled cool, dank air, the bitter odor of exhaust and oil, and the flinty edge of stone. Hands moved on her chest, and the warmth spread. Sharp pains spiked through her rib cage, and she lurched forward with a gasp.

She opened her eyes to find herself splayed on the backseat, one leg hanging out of the rear passenger door, her calf cramping against the cold, hard edge of the door-frame. The other leg twisted under her. She hung sideways in the seat, with the armrest thrusting her back into an arch.

Cress crouched over her, her fingers clamped onto Laura’s shoulders, whiteless eyes showing no emotion. She panted, baring her teeth, faintly blue-tinged teeth glossy with saliva. Let me in, Laura. You must let me in, she sent.

The words echoed in Laura’s mind as if from someplace far away. Her mouth stretched open as she tried to shout. Daggers of bitter violet essence stabbing at her body essence. Cress was trying to get inside her. Panic rose at the violation, at the wrongness of the leanansidhe essence, and the hunger behind it.

Let me in. It won’t hurt if you let me, Cress sent. Softer, farther away. Was she leaving? Laura wondered. Or am I? A dagger of light pierced something inside her, and she felt Cress, felt her presence like no one she had ever sensed. She screamed.

Don’t fight me. It’s Cress, Laura. Cress.

Another voice joined hers. You’re safe, Laura. Let Cress in. You’re safe. Terryn. Cress and Terryn. Friends. They were friends. She knew them. Friends. She let go, stopped fighting the strange essence, fought the panic she was feeling. The daggers lost their edge, became thick feathers, bending and weaving inside her. Something shifted, as if she moved beside herself, a new angle of perspective opening in her mind. Cress’s perspective. She rode along with Cress, looking at her own body essence as if it were someone else’s.

Something moved inside her, something virulent and green, a spiderlike essence that twisted into her own burning amber light. It coiled and cinched around her essence, the amber light fading to green and fading away. Cress tracked it with her own essence, her feathery strands blossoming into fronds of violet and lavender. They embraced the strange green thing, smothering it, constricting its movements as Cress leached its energy. Power surged through Laura, a hot, burning rush as Cress’s essence flared.

Laura shivered violently as the pulsating violet essence drained the green, sucking the light out of it. A yawning ache built in her chest, a hunger and desire to devour. Cress’s essence raced through her, siphoning the spider-shape into itself until the last faint flicker of green dimmed and went out. The purple light hovered around her, slithering around her body signature. Hunting. Stalking. Disappointed, it withdrew, like a reluctant wave retreating from shore.

Laura wrenched forward and slammed into Cress. They fell out of the SUV in a tangle of arms and legs, hit pavement, and sprawled away from each other. Laura dragged herself to her hands and knees as dry heaves wracked her. She sat back on her feet and let her head fall back.

Exhilaration raced through her, an adrenaline surge that made her skin prickle. She pushed sweat-damp hair off her face and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Herself again, her essence shining within on its own, no strange spiderling dancing on her life spark. No Cress either.

Cress squatted nearby on the ground, arms wrapped around knees as she swayed. She stared, not looking at Laura, not focusing on anything but the patch of concrete at her feet. Laura sensed a deep purple corona smoldering darkly around her. Cress lifted her head, her eyes closing as she opened her mouth. With a strange, soft cry, a small cluster of darkness floated out of her mouth. It danced like a cloud of nothing, then dissolved into motes of black and was gone.

Terryn waited near the front of the SUV, his dark wings open high and wide. Around him, around them all, the air wavered like a curtain of water, the distorted images of cars and columns undulating beyond it. They were behind a protection barrier in the Guildhouse parking garage.

Laura felt the flutter of sending. Cress lifted her head toward Terryn. She nodded with a weak smile and stood. She held out her hand to Laura. “How do you feel?”

Laura pulled herself up. “Fine. Considering.”

Anytime Cress looked at her or anything else, Laura thought of it as staring. The weird, whiteless eyes acted like normal eyes, the raised bumps of pupils shifted as Cress focused or cocked her head to examine something. But without that small defining white to either side, she always looked like she was staring. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I started going head-blind and blacking out. Every time I stopped the SUV, I woke up driving the damned thing again.”

Cress nodded. “There was an essence infusion of henbane and moonflower in your system. It was short-circuiting your brain. You threw up the physical poison, but the killing spell released.”

“How the hell did you find me?” Laura asked.

Cress tilted her head. “You called us on the cell and activated your transmitter.”

Laura rubbed the back of her neck. She remembered taking out the cell, then blacking out, then taking the cell out again.

She jumped to her feet. “Sinclair!”

“He’s fine,” said Terryn. “As soon as we received your distress call, we sent someone to pick him up at the Vault. He made an excuse to leave his post and left before anyone knew he was gone.”

Laura slumped down onto the running board of the SUV. “I screwed up.”

“You’re tired and still recovering from the concussion,” Cress said.

“I screwed up, Cress!” Cress took the outburst without reacting. She knew the anger wasn’t directed at her.

“What happened?” asked Terryn.

Laura shook her head. “Alfrey was in the building. I had a drink with Gianni. He slipped something into it.”

Cress leaned against Terryn. “We need rest. We can talk tomorrow. I will remain on call.”

“You don’t need to do that, Cress. I just need sleep now,” Laura said.

“I think it’s better I sleep alone tonight anyway,” said Cress. Laura glanced at her, then away. She didn’t want to think about what Cress had done to her-what Laura had let her do.

Terryn wrapped his arms around Cress and kissed her forehead, a rare show of public affection. “Go upstairs then. I’ll take care of the body.”

Cress held him. Laura felt a surge of essence and watched without comment as Terryn allowed Cress to siphon some of his body essence. She wondered what Terryn would have done if he had fallen in love with Cress and wasn’t an Inverni. With the powerful reserves of essence innate to his species, he had little to fear from a leanansidhe absorbing some off him. It didn’t mean she couldn’t hurt or kill him, just that he would last a lot longer against her than most fey. Cress pulled away from him and walked through the shimmering barrier that hid them from prying eyes.

Body. Terryn said he would take care of a body. Laura spun toward the SUV. Through the open door, she saw a dark shape in the back. She sensed the essence of an Inverni fairy. It should have been stronger that close to her.

“Dammit,” she muttered.

She popped the hatch of the SUV. A shirtless Inverni fairy lay on his back, pale skin bearing ancient blue tribal tattoos across the chest and shoulders, faded with time. In life, Inverni wings flicker with light and color, notably whites and deep blues. In death, they were dim and gray, their diaphanous nature hardening to a fragile membrane that crumbled at the slightest touch. The translucent wings twisted around his arms and legs, a nauseating tangle that would never happen in life. A deep burn mark marred the left half of the fairy’s face. It wasn’t Alfrey.

On top of messing up, she’d put Terryn in a position of having to kill someone. He went for a head shot. Laura spoke a prayer of departing to herself. She didn’t want the Inverni to leave an echo of anger behind for her as he made his afterlife journey to TirNaNog.

“I’m sorry you had to do that, Terryn.”

He shrugged. “The Wheel of the World turns as it will, Laura. It chose me to be at the end of his path.”

Laura didn’t respond as he lifted out the body. She believed in the Wheel of the World, the grand turning of events large and small that determined the course of one’s life. She accepted that things happened for a reason and for no reason at the same time. That didn’t mean she wasn’t responsible for her role in events. It didn’t mean she had to like it. It didn’t mean she knew what her future held. What it meant, to her, was that actions begot reactions and mistakes had ramifications. A dead body was never a good thing to leave in one’s path.