CHAPTER 43
AS SHE STEPPED out of her
SUV, Laura made no effort to hide her annoyance as she adjusted the
jacket on her uniform. It was bad enough that the emergency call
had come in as soon as she had gone home to bed after leaving the
Guildhouse, but Genda didn’t know that an open call to a crime
scene was heard by everyone in the city with a gun and a badge.
Emergency vehicles and police cars from a number of agencies filled
the edge of the park. If Genda had been more low-key, they would
have been able to contain notice to the local police and the
Guild’s Community Liaison department. Factor in the high-profile
players in a town like Washington, and more obscure agencies turned
out. Some came out of curiosity or political advantage, but most
came for the adrenaline rush of being on scene for a crime with
international ramifications.
Walking through a gauntlet of law-enforcement
personnel, she held out her InterSec badge. They spent their few
moments with her staring at her face. The extra care she had given
to making Mariel Tate physically attractive paid off in chaotic
situations. No one liked to admit it, but something clicked off in
people’s brains around good-looking people. They trusted them more,
liked them more, and believed them more. And let them slide through
security without much scrutiny if they flashed a badge.
As she entered the grassy area of the scene, she
noted that at least someone had had the common sense to isolate the
area around the body. A local police officer lifted a long strip of
crime-scene tape to let her pass. Up a short rise, people gathered
near the edge of a stand of trees. Out of habit, Laura scanned the
ground as she approached. The area hadn’t been processed. Someone
could have gone across the same grass she was walking on and left a
hint of their identity, but she saw nothing out of the
ordinary.
Guild security agents and Inverni Guardians stood
on opposite sides of another taped-off area. A few human officers
hovered on the edges of the group, impotent in jurisdiction against
all the high-level agencies on the ground. She made casual note of
Sinclair’s presence. He wore his InterSec jacket, the hood pulled
up and forward to shadow his face. His height might draw attention,
but in a group of fey, that was less likely.
Brinen macCullen crouched by the body of a female
Inverni. Alive, fairies resonated with power, their bodies
naturally cycling essence out of the air. The energy was always
there, to the point where Laura didn’t notice it any more than she
would the fact that someone was breathing. Part of being in the
presence of a fairy. Dead, that process stopped, leaving the body a
shadow of itself, the lack of intense body signature an oddity that
was noticeable by its absence.
The woman hadn’t been dead long. Even without
sensing her fading essence, Laura knew by the lifeless drape of her
wings that death had been within the last few hours. So soft and
supple in life, the gossamer appendages shriveled and hardened in
death, wrapping the body like a shroud. The woman’s wings lay
against the ground, dark but not yet curling.
With one hand, Brinen stroked in the air above the
body, shy of physically touching. A faint pool of blue light
enveloped his fingers. His attention remained on the body as Laura
crouched next to him. “I heard about the hotel. Here to threaten
more of our people, Agent Tate?”
She kept her voice cool. “Only the ones who don’t
follow orders, Lord Guardian. Who called it in?”
“A human walking his dog,” he said.
Laura spotted a casually dressed older gentleman
speaking to a Guild security agent. A small dog on a leash danced
around them, excited by all the activity.
Brinen dangled his hands between his knees.
“Essence shock.”
Odd, Laura thought. Taking out an Inverni fairy in
a fight wasn’t easy, and the sustained burst necessary for essence
shock was difficult to maintain on a moving target. She played the
beam of her flashlight over the woman’s body. Dark lines
crisscrossed her clothing on the sleeves and pants. Burns, the
familiar pattern left when someone struggled against a binding
spell. Whoever had killed her had bound her before she died. That
took ability and power.
Laura recognized the woman’s body signature from
the attic where the sniper had fired. She sensed Brinen’s
signature, too, from the residue of his scan. Other signatures were
whispers on her, which meant she had had only casual contact. They
had their second suspect, which meant two dead ends.
Literally.
“Uma macGrath?” Laura asked.
“She was on Draigen’s staff,” said Aran.
She pivoted to see Aran standing at the edge of her
sensing range. She hadn’t noticed him arrive. “You knew her?”
Aran moved closed, his face troubled and angry.
“She was the missing guard from your interview list. She and Sean
Carr were lovers. It was an open secret.”
Annoyed, Laura stood. “Why didn’t you mention that
earlier? We wasted manpower looking for two people when she was the
obvious suspect.”
“I didn’t know. No one told me the other name until
after Rory Dawson was caught.”
She glanced at Brinen, who remained intent on the
body. For all his attitude, he wasn’t as thorough as he liked to
imply. She sighed. “What’s done is done. There’s no telling if we
would have found her sooner anyway.”
Brinen joined them. “I suggest we start
interviewing their associates.”
Aran cocked his head. “I was under the impression
Agent Tate had done that already.”
Brinen glowered at his brother. “Yes, but two
people from the same subclan bear investigating. We should check
their bloodlines as well as their colleagues.”
Color rose in Aran’s cheeks. He stalked away. Laura
noticed that Brinen didn’t appear fazed. “What was that about?” she
asked.
“An old family disagreement,” he said. Without
another word, he walked off, too.
Sinclair sidled in closer. “Looks like the
macCullens aren’t as chummy as they appear.”
For once, Laura didn’t bristle at one of Sinclair’s
digs. He was right. Friction among the siblings was apparent.
Still, there was enough stress going on to trigger it.
“Did you notice the burns?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“She was silenced,” he said.
“Someone has a lot to lose,” Laura said.
“Like an underKing’s realm?”
She compressed her lips. “I don’t think Terryn had
anything to do with this.”
Sinclair shrugged. “I’m looking at all
contingencies until they’re discredited. Someone told me that’s the
way we do things at InterSec.”
“I trust him, Jono,” she said.
“This is older than us, Cuddles. It has nothing to
do with you,” he said.
They waited as the medical examiner staff gathered
around the body. Laura couldn’t dismiss what Sinclair said. When
Terryn had realized that the Treaty of London made his people an
internal class of enemies, he had reacted like a different person,
not the man she knew. Whatever was at stake, it was more than the
murder of two renegade Inverni.
“I hate fairy politics,” she said.
Sinclair murmured agreement. “Now you know why I
pretend I’m human.”