Skin Deep

She felt sick to her stomach. And angry. “Do you know what happened at the FBI building, Liam? Let me tell you…”

“I heard about the bomb,” he said.

Laura stood and trembled. She dropped her voice low and deadly. “Do not interrupt me. I’ll tell you want happened at the FBI, Liam. I was early for my appointment with Lawrence Scales, a husband and father of two young children. We talked and I left, Liam. You know what happened then? A package with essence radiating off it was delivered. I went to warn Scales, and the bomb blew. My essence triggered it, Liam. The bomber used my essence from this paperweight to set a trigger.”

She slammed the crystal sphere on the desk. “A man is dead because you didn’t make the right fucking phone call.”

Laura nodded to the agent. “Detain him until you hear from me.”

The agent stepped forward, giving Liam the opportunity to stand on his own. Tears streaming down his face, Liam didn’t hesitate to join him. “I’m sorry, Mariel. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it, I will.”

He meant it. She didn’t care. Showing no emotion, she turned to her computer. “Get out.”

The door closed behind them. They were gone. Laura’s fingers trembled as she reached for the keyboard. She had trusted Liam. She thought he liked her. She thought the Mariel persona was above suspicion for everyone, especially her own assistant. To think that someone so near found her so unknowable nauseated her. Had she become so lost in her personas that nothing of her true self showed? Had she become so shut off from her own self-awareness, she didn’t even recognize herself anymore?

She brushed a tear off her cheek and thought of Sinclair. What was he seeing? Did he really want to get involved with someone like her? Why would he? Why would anyone? She shoved her fears aside and took a deep breath. She was Laura Blackstone. That much she knew. That she could hold on to. Laura Blackstone knew how to get a job done. She would worry about who she was later.

If there was a later.

CHAPTER 25

FROM THE CHRONIC state of disarray in Laura’s InterSec office, it was obvious no assistant cleaned up after her. The desktop and two credenzas held stacks of reports she never got around to filing. Someone sca

Laura rubbed her finger along the edge of Blume’s business card as she waited for the number to co

“Officer Crawford,” Blume answered.

Laura pursed her lips. She hadn’t given him Janice’s cell number. “Yeah, it’s me. I need some work.”

“I believe you are on sick leave,” he said.

“It’s a respiratory thing. I was wondering if you could use me for something that doesn’t involve ru

“Why the change of heart?” he asked.

She rolled her shoulders in a disinterested shrug. As Laura or Mariel, she didn’t use much body language on the phone. It felt right for Janice, though. “I don’t see any overtime in my future, and I need cash.”

“I can offer you door security,” Blume said.

Exactly what Janice had told him she didn’t want to do. If anything, Blume was a game player. “That’s fine. I’m free tonight and next Tuesday.”

Amusement colored Blume’s voice. “Oh? I may not need you then.”

Laura threw her hands up. “Whatever. You offered. I’ll look somewhere else if you don’t have anything.”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s start you tonight and see how things work out. Nine o’clock.” He disco

Laura glanced at Sinclair. “He bit. I’m on the door tonight.”

Sinclair stretched out his legs and knocked over a stack of journals. They both ignored it. “I’m working security for a meeting at seven. What’s the plan?”

She walked around the desk. “Ingratiate. We get the lay of the land. I want to know if Blume is more co

Sinclair grabbed her arm as she passed. “What’s up? You’ve been quiet since I got here.”

She arched an eyebrow at his hand. “Let’s call it a bad day at the office.”

He smirked. “Which office?”

She shrugged out of his grasp. “Really, Jono. Not a joke.”

His amusement faded. “Sorry. Cream and light on the sugar, please.”

She returned and set a cup on the front of the desk as she circled to her chair. Sinclair picked up the cup and sipped. “Mmm. Better than the station.”

Laura held a mug with both hands. “Cress brings in her own beans.”

Sinclair propped his feet up on the corner of her desk. “You want to talk about it?”

She shook her head as she swallowed. “It won’t change anything.”

“Might change your mood,” he said.

“I don’t know if I want to change my mood.”

He nodded slowly and sipped his coffee. “I like a good wallow myself sometimes. I usually drink beer, though.”

Laura snorted. “How many cops have I heard that from?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you looking to pick a fight? ’Cause we can do that if you want. I like a good tussle, too, ya know.”

She stared into her mug. She did want to fight. Something. She wanted to exhaust the anger out of herself, hit something to make things right again. She wanted to go back in time and ask Liam where her paperweight was when she first noticed it missing. She wanted Lawrence Scales to be alive. “A man died because of me,” she said.

Sinclair nodded. “Was he on the job?”

“Sort of.”

“Then it wasn’t because of you. It was because of the job. It’s what we sign up for. All of us,” he said.

She put her mug down and crossed her arms. “Bullshit.”

He shook his head. “No bullshit, and you know it, babe. I don’t carry a gun because I think no one else does. You don’t do your mojo because you think no one else will. When we get into this, we know the bad guys shoot back. It’s why we do it and why it sucks. Unless you pointed a gun or your finger at his head and pulled the trigger for no good reason, I’m not going to listen to any blame laying.”

She ran a hand through her hair and stared at the ceiling. “I know. It doesn’t make it any easier. Don’t call me babe, by the way. I’m not your babe.”

He affected surprise. “What? You don’t like nicknames?”

“Not the sexist kind.”

He shrugged. “Oh, it wasn’t sexist. Babe is short for baby, as in too immature to deal with grown-up stuff. I was being condescending.”

She gave her eyes a derisive roll. “Do you really think you can bait me that easily?”

He gri

She shook her head. “Really, Jono, knock it off. You want to get to know me, not taking me seriously isn’t the way to go.”

He held up his hands. “Okay. I’m sorry. Really. I’m just trying to figure out why a woman who threatened to kill me is suddenly having such a hard time because someone died.”

She met his eyes. “Maybe I’m not who you think I am.”

He shook his head. “I may not know who you are, but I know what you are. You’re human.”

She chuckled derisively. “No. No, I’m not, Jono. I’m fey. I leave destruction in my wake. Isn’t that what the humans say?”

He walked around the desk and crouched in front of her. She thought for a moment he was going to touch her. Instead, he clasped his hands and smiled up at her. “Skip the labels, babe. You’re human because of what you feel right now. Being human has nothing to do with race or essence ability.”