CHAPTER 30
THE NEXT MORNING, Laura
reviewed messages on her PDA in the anteroom to the Guildmaster’s
office. The text in front of her didn’t make much impression as
images of the previous night flashed through her mind. She had made
a choice that even in the light of day felt like the right one.
Getting involved with someone—with Sinclair—didn’t frighten her
anymore. It was a risk, like all relationships, but she wasn’t
going to let work take priority over her personal life from now on.
Instead, she took the last remaining moments before meeting with
Rhys to remember the feel of Sinclair’s arms around her, his face
nuzzled into her neck as he slept. Near dawn, he eased out of bed
trying not to wake her, but she rolled over and smiled up at him,
half-dressed in the faint dawnlight. He kissed her good morning
with a promise to meet her later in the day.
Laura glanced at Rhys’s assistant, a young Danann
fairy who was typing with speed. She didn’t know the woman’s name
and tried not to feel guilty about it. The assistant would probably
be gone in a month or so. Rhys burned through his help, but he
never lacked for interested applicants. Having his name on a résumé
looked good and as a reference even better, provided one didn’t
screw up too badly. Everyone screwed up as far as Rhys was
concerned.
“He’ll see you now,” the assistant said. She hadn’t
stopped typing or diverted her attention from her computer screen.
No phone or intercom rang. Still reading her PDA, Laura entered the
office. Rhys spoke quietly on the phone, so she sat and texted
Saffin a few details she remembered for Draigen’s reception. Rhys
hung up as she finished the message. He worked at his computer as
if she weren’t there. She closed the PDA and folded her hands on
her lap. Rhys continued typing.
“I’d like an explanation,” she said.
He didn’t look up. “Oh, are you ready to see
me?”
“Are you?”
He spun slowly in his chair. “I like when you’re
annoyed, Laura. It means your job is challenging. It’s what makes
you stay.”
She snorted. “Do you want me to leave?”
He smiled. “No, I want you to do what you do
best.”
“Which I can’t do if I don’t know what’s going,”
she said.
He sighed. “You seem to be spending time angry with
me lately.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “Are you trying
to provoke me or avoid the subject at hand?”
“Which is?”
“Terryn macCullen, as if you didn’t know.”
“Ah, I was wondering when he would come up.” An
obvious lie. Rhys didn’t care that she was angry.
“You should have told me he was suspended,” she
said.
Rhys made a show of surprise. “Is he? I thought he
went on leave.”
“Orrin, I’m getting very close to losing my temper.
There’s a difference between being challenged and being
antagonized.”
He chuckled. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Laura. I’m
feeling perverse today. Things are going so well, I find myself
unable not to gloat and irritate.”
“Well, if this is your good mood, warn me when a
bad one’s coming,” she said.
He laughed. “Okay, I should have told you. It was
part of the package with getting rid of the leanansidhe. I told InterSec that if macCullen
didn’t accept a suspension, I would publicly accuse them of
incompetence and have Maeve allow me to throw them out.”
“But you’re accusing them anyway,” she said.
He shook his head. “Privately, yes. Publicly, I’m
letting them save face and claim they initiated their own
investigation.”
“You should have told me,” she said.
“I was going to, but macCullen took me by surprise.
I gave them twenty-four hours. He walked out before I knew what
happened. I should have anticipated such a move. These macCullens
are always working at cross-purposes.”
Truth hummed in his words. That did sound like
something Terryn would do. He didn’t like being given ultimatums
any more than anyone else, but if he had to accept one, he’d find a
way to do it on his own terms. Rhys’s throwaway comment intrigued
her, though.
“Cross-purposes?” she asked.
He waved a hand dismissively. “Our Lady Regent gave
me the idea to suspend him. When I told her I was getting rid of
the leanansidhe, she said she understood
and that it would be unfortunate for such a fate to befall her
brother. I thought the idea intriguing, so I used it.”
“But she said . . .” Laura stopped at an
exasperated eyebrow lift from Rhys.
“Don’t be naïve, Laura. She said it to me with the
purpose of putting the idea in my mind. I don’t know what her game
is, but sidelining Terryn macCullen appealed to her and works fine
with me.”
Rhys was right, she realized. She wasn’t naïve. She
knew the nuance of conversations with subtext. But like Rhys said,
she didn’t understand why having Terryn out of InterSec would
benefit the Inverni cause. It surprised her.
“All well and good. In the meantime, I’m getting
pressure from the media. They see your hand in this,” she
said.
He grinned. “Do they?”
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. He was
intent on staying in this mood. “Okay, I get it. You want them to
know the Guild is behind it, but you want deniability. Can I ask
why?”
He leaned forward. “It sends a message. The Inverni
need to know that the Seelie Court will not be passive if they seek
allies against it. And the public needs to know the decisions that
the Inverni make. Letting a leanansidhe
into the Guildhouse has upset many people, Laura. That thing was
dangerous.”
“No, she isn’t,” she said. As soon as she said it,
she bit her lip. It had been an impulsive reaction.
Rhys pulled his chin in, surprised. “How do you
know that’s true or not?”
She shrugged. “She’s a solitary. Resha Dunne would
tell us if there was a danger, wouldn’t he?”
Rhys scoffed. “Dunne wouldn’t know his ass from his
back fin.”
Laura shook her head. “Still, Orrin, Resha knows
how to cover that back fin. If he knew of a danger that might
reflect on him, I think he’d do something about it.”
He leaned forward again. “How about this, then: I
don’t like it. I don’t like that a leanansidhe was free to roam this building. I don’t
like that it exists. You’re young, Laura. Here-born. You don’t know
the damage those things have done here and back in Faerie.”
She closed her eyes a moment. She hated when an Old
One invoked the past in Faerie. She couldn’t argue it. Never mind
that the fey who did remember Faerie recalled only bits and pieces.
That Rhys remembered a leanansidhe meant he
had experienced them, and by all accounts, the leanansidhe did cause havoc. If what she had heard
was any indication of the true reality, Cress’s sister leanansidhe—if not Cress herself—were formidable
foes.
Nothing she could say at that point would change
Rhys’s mind. She heard it in his voice and saw it in his body
language. She entertained the idea that he was afraid of what Cress
was capable of. He had watched her absorb an enormous amount of
essence at the Archives, then destroy the roof of the building.
That Cress did it to save lives was beside the point to him. That
she could do it at all was the problem.
“Let’s let go of this discussion, Orrin. What’s
done is done, and we need to address the ramifications for the
Guild,” she said.
He leaned back again. “Good. Put something together
that says we are surprised at the recent changes at InterSec and
look forward to the release of their findings. Throw in something
about regretting that such an esteemed member of the Inverni clan
as Terryn macCullen decided to go on leave, and that it is an
unfortunate loss at this time because his wisdom will be
missed.”
His disingenuous tone set her teeth on edge, but
she had pushed him as much as she could for one day. “I will. Can I
have your word you’ll give me more of a heads-up than the day after
you do something radical?”
He chuckled. “I will, but you know I won’t be able
to keep it.”
“I know. It would be nice to hear you say it,
though,” she said.
He tilted his head in a bow. “I shall try not to
make your job harder than it is.”
She stood. “Thank you. I’ll get back to work,
then.”
“Before you go, Laura, I want to say one more
thing. After all these years and all you’ve seen, I admire your
optimism. I hope you aren’t sorely disappointed when people turn
out exactly as they are.”
She paused by the door. “Do you believe in
redemption, Orrin?”
He seemed surprised at the question and paused
before answering. “I do. But I don’t believe that acceptance always
follows. Sometimes it shouldn’t.”
A sad smile slipped across her face as she left.
She had to believe in redemption—and forgiveness. She had spent
years doing some harsh things in the name of the greater good. She
believed that someday she would be called to account for them, and
she hoped whoever judged her showed more mercy than Orrin ap
Rhys.