CHAPTER 25
THE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT
on Draigen dominated the conversation at the Guild staff’s weekly
meeting the following morning. Guildhouses focused on local issues,
but a few—as those in Washington, Berlin, and Paris—had become key
strategic locations to further the political agenda of High Queen
Maeve. Her opposition to the Elvenking in Germany required constant
attention—and constant reinforcement of alliances. A change in
leadership of a major fairy clan caused more than one department to
consider the political ramifications for the Seelie Court.
Laura shifted her folders on the table for the
third or fourth time. Guildhouse staff meetings were like corporate
meetings everywhere. Sometimes interesting, most times too long.
Rhys ran an efficient meeting. He enjoyed being the center of
attention, but he wasn’t a rambler. Despite that, the conversation
had leaned on speculation more than anything else, and Laura wanted
the meeting to end.
The assassination attempt had thrown the building
into a high security alert, which restricted access to most
outsiders. Laura counted herself lucky that she didn’t have outside
clients who needed to allow extra time for clearance—if lucky meant
her workload was limited to her public-relations duties in the
building and her InterSec mission. Rhys was firing off press
releases on a near-hourly basis addressing rumors of anti-Inverni
bias at the Guild, failures in security that had almost killed
Draigen, demands for more investigations into the terrorist attack
at the National Archives, to say nothing of the seemingly random
attacks against the fey around the city. Saffin helped Laura manage
the changing priorities and ran interference as necessary. The
weekly meeting was the last place Laura wanted to be.
Rhys made some final remarks about heightened
security and his desire to protect the building staff. Laura wasn’t
offended by the undercurrent of falsity that ran through his words.
She knew he cared about the people who worked in the Guild, but he
brought it up in the meeting to give the staff the impression he
was actively working on their protection rather than relying on
others to handle the nuts and bolts of the details. People in
Rhys’s position dictated policy. They didn’t implement. She jotted
down some notes. Some of what Rhys said could be used in more
public announcements, too.
Rhys closed his loose-leaf notebook and adjourned
the meeting. From her seat at the side of the room, Laura rose to
let people pass. She adjusted the stack of folders in her arms when
Rhys called her name. “A moment, if you please.”
She shifted past the exiting staff and sat next to
him. While the room emptied, he checked his PDA. When the last
person out of the room closed the door, Rhys placed the PDA on the
table. “I need an internal memo, something nuanced but
pointed.”
His manner intrigued her, cautious yet bemused. She
lifted her pen, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve purged the
leanansidhe from my Guildhouse.”
Anger surged through Laura. “What do you mean
‘purged’?”
Rhys arched an eyebrow. “Is that essence light I
see in your eyes?”
She inhaled sharply, surprised that her emotion had
broken through her normal control. She tamped down the essence,
drawing it into the core of her being, and relaxed her grip on the
chair. “I’m sorry, Guildmaster. The term took me off guard.”
Rhys’s face relaxed. “Ah, that. It was an
ill-chosen word. For a moment, I thought you were going to raise an
objection and defend the creature again.”
Laura dropped her eyes, not wanting to challenge
him. Rhys rarely misspoke. After World War II, solitaries who
collaborated with the Elvenking were interned in camps across
Europe. Those who escaped found refuge in the U.S. They called it
the Purge, and the rise of solitaries as a protected class in the
U.S. began. “What’s happened?”
“I’ve barred it from the building. An investigation
into its presence will be commencing shortly. I want a notice sent
to all staff that this is an isolated instance until we can clarify
the situation.”
“Where is she?” Laura asked.
“Who?”
She glanced at him sharply. “Cress. The leanansidhe.”
Rhys pursed his lips. “It apparently lives with
Terryn macCullen of all people. I want that mentioned. They’ve
agreed that the leanansidhe will submit to
Guild authorities and remain under guard in the apartment until the
legalities are straightened out.”
Kill two birds with one memo, she thought. Demonize
Cress and smear an Inverni.
“This isn’t Faerie, Orrin,” she said.
At the use of his personal name, he cocked his
head. “Do you have something to say, Laura?”
She hesitated. It was hard to know when to be frank
with him and when to tread carefully. “I don’t know the full
politics of the Inverni and Danann clan disputes, but I do know
American attitudes. What plays well at the Seelie Court may
backfire here. We need to maintain the Americans as our allies
against the Elvenking.”
“Donor Elfenkonig has voiced his support of the
Inverni cause. That is enough for our American friends to support
us,” he replied.
“Support” was too strong a word. Laura had seen the
news dispatches. The Elvenking had criticized the Treaty clause as
archaic—ironic considering his preferences for old ways. He had not
explicitly denounced the Seelie Court. “You know that’s posturing
on his part, Orrin. I’m concerned about the solitaries as well.
They will watch and worry about what Maeve does to a major segment
of the fey population. Cress may be a leanansidhe, but the solitaries will view her as one
of their own even if they fear her kind.”
Rhys folded his hands across his chest and leaned
back in thought. By the sudden agitation in his wings, she knew she
had made a sharp point. “I will bear that in mind. Thank you,
Laura. Word will spread quickly about this. I would like a draft
memo within the hour.”
“What about Resha?” she asked.
“What about him?”
“It might play better coming from him.”
Rhys chuckled. “I like that. He won’t, but I do.
I’ll make the call personally.”
She hated herself for offering the idea. Putting
Resha in a propaganda position against his own people felt worse,
but she did hope it would help. He might find a way to present the
news without its sounding like Cress was targeted first,
investigated second. Solitaries were used to that order of events,
and it didn’t sit well with them. “Is there anything else?”
“No.”
She stood. “I’ll write up a draft for Resha to work
from that includes your talking points.”
Rhys called her when she reached the door. “Laura,
I’m concerned you’re angry with me.”
“I’m concerned we’re putting too much pressure on
the situation, Orrin, especially in light of the assassination
attempt. People are emotional and upset. We’ve effectively put the
fey on notice that any opposition to the Seelie Court will be met
with heavy punitive action. Threatening to make the Inverni
political prisoners and exiling a solitary because we’re afraid of
what she might do as opposed to something she’s actually done can
create an explosive situation. I don’t want us to be seen as
encouraging that kind of behavior. That’s all,” she said.
“Sometimes forcing a situation relieves the
pressure,” he said.
She offered him a troubled smile. “I hope
so.”
As she waited for the elevator, she did her best to
control her breathing. Politics or not, Cress was her friend. So
was Terryn. For the first time in a long time, the personal
mattered to her more than protecting the Seelie Court and
Maeve.