Skin Deep

CHAPTER 26

IN THE VAULT’S lobby, Laura felt like an out-of-her-league naif waiting for a no-show date. The Janice persona’s plain-Jane business suit puckered at the waist and shoulders and screamed off-the-rack discount store. The appearance was intentional, of course. Laura had designed Janice to appear less than sophisticated and out of her depth. The Vault was the perfect place to emphasize it. Well-heeled customers filed past her without a second look.

Businesspeople filtered in as the younger crowd moved elsewhere for the night. The bar area became quieter, though no less full as midlevel bureaucrats settled in to have a quiet drink with industry allies.

Blume was late. She didn’t expect anything more from him. People of a certain power level worked their own schedule, skimming through their appointments with an unspoken hierarchy of importance. Everyone was on time for the president of the United States or a senator or certain CEOs. A police officer looking for side work was kept waiting.

She watched the faces of the clientele and considered their emotional states. They hid their true feelings as much as she did, only instead of glamours, theirs were practiced facial expressions. The avid, interested look of a lobbyist hid contempt for the politician in front of her; the bright, friendly smile of an assistant director hid anxiety about his job status; the obvious upset of a congressman hid the cold calculation of strategic maneuvering. All masks of one kind or another, attempts to hide or betray the truth to further goals.

Gianni arrived. Where Laura’s clothes hung loosely in all the wrong places, Gianni’s black suit stretched across his broad shoulders in as many wrong places. Buttons barely held the jacket closed. “Good, you’re on time. Blume likes punctual,” he said.

“In other people, I guess,” she said.

Gianni lowered his eyes at her. “I’d watch my mouth if you want the job. Let’s go.”

He walked into the bar. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. She followed him to a corridor in back that led to a wood-paneled elevator door. Gianni inserted a key into the elevator’s floor panel inside the elevator. They rode in silence up one floor. An undercurrent of amusement colored Gianni’s body essence, but his face remained impassive. Laura ignored the intent to unsettle her.

The doors opened onto a quiet office corridor lined with closed doors. Laura took note of the security camera tucked into the corner of the ceiling and another at the far end. She followed Gianni down the hall to where two men in black suits guarded a closed door. Gianni nodded at them and entered the room.

The first thing that Laura noticed about Tylo Blume’s office was the odor. A musty burnt tang permeated the room, the aftereffect of burning incense. Laura detected the essence of juniper, cedar, and elm. Elves used incense in spells for protection from negative forces during chanting as well as for inspiration during meditation. Blume sat behind an antique desk, a mahogany Victorian. An Art Deco lamp illuminated a dull, worn leather surface that was clear of clutter. The elf read a document, its paper a brilliant white under the lamp. “Officer Crawford, I’m pleased you agreed to come.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Why I’m pleased or why you came?”

Laura frowned. “Both.”

“You came because you need money. I’m pleased because I need help. Your employment will solve both our problems,” he said.

She sensed truth in his words but didn’t see the point. “Why do you need my help?”

He peered at her from the dimness beyond the desk lamp. “I need a druid on staff.”

“And Corman Deegan shot you down.”

Blume nodded. “Yes. We did not have mutual needs.”

“Why me?”

Blume glanced at Gianni before answering. A flutter in the air meant he’d projected a sending to him. “I have heard about this mission you were on. I am impressed with your ability to think on your feet. From what I understand, you are no match for an Inverni fairy, yet you managed to survive his attack.”

“So if I’m no match, what do you need me for? Hire someone with power.”

He smiled. “That I can do. What I can’t do is be assured of someone’s fortitude, of the commitment to a task. I need someone who will put herself on the line and follow through despite personal jeopardy. You’ve proved you can do that.”

She nodded. “For the right reason. Money isn’t always the right reason.”

His lips quirked in amusement. “True. The reason has to come first, not the money. I can provide you with an opportunity to help me ensure a better future for the world.”

“Sounds like political bullshit,” she said.

He chuckled. “If this is an example of your interview skills, I am not surprised at your lack of work.”

“I asked for a job, Blume, not a lecture. Give me a reason not to walk out of here.”

He nodded. “I have many businesses and many friends. We hope to bring our abilities together to end the strife between human and fey, even between the Celtic and the Teutonic fey. Some of our ideas will be perceived as radical. We need protection from people who might seek aggressive means to stop us.”

She forced herself to smirk. “You think you can accomplish what High Queen Maeve and the Elvenking have been trying to do for a hundred years?”

He stared directly into her eyes. “Yes. Do you think that’s enough motivation to keep what you see and hear to yourself?”

She suppressed a shiver. He believed he could do it. “Sure. More power to you.”

He nodded. “You have a job.”

“I have one condition,” she said.

“Name it.”

“I’m not a merc. I won’t kill someone on orders.”

“I wouldn’t ask that,” he said.

She had a moment of confusion. He wasn’t lying. Gianni was right by the door, and he had tried to kill her and probably Sanchez on someone’s orders. Either Blume hadn’t ordered it, or he was saying he wouldn’t use her in that way. Yet.

“I’m in,” she said.