by Martha Carr
The Drow There and Nothing More
Goth Drow™ Book Three
Martha Carr
Michael Anderle
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2020 Martha Carr and Michael Anderle
Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design
http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US Edition, June, 2020
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64202-985-7
Print ISBN: 978-1-64202-986-4
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Free Books
Author Notes - Martha Carr
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
Other Books By Martha Carr
Books By Michael Anderle
The Drow There and Nothing More Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
John Ashmore
Allen Collins
Angel LaVey
Daniel Weigert
Deb Mader
Debi Sateren
Diane L. Smith
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Jeff Eaton
Jeff Goode
John Ashmore
Kerry Mortimer
Larry Omans
Paul Westman
Peter Manis
Veronica Stephan-Miller
If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
The Skyhunter Editing Team
Dedications
From Martha
To everyone who still believes in magic
and all the possibilities that holds.
To all the readers who make this
entire ride so much fun.
And to my son, Louie and so many wonderful friends who remind me all the time of what
really matters and how wonderful
life can be in any given moment.
From Michael
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live The Life We Are
Called.
Chapter One
Cheyenne Summerlin rolled over in her bed and reached for the stack of pillows she’d grown used to grabbing in her sleep. Instead of pillows, her hand slapped down heavily on air, and she almost rolled onto the floor.
Her first instinct was to keep from falling. Her hand lashed out, and the force of her newly unlocked telekinesis threw her back onto the small bed while splintering the wooden floor beside her with a crunch. The halfling drew her hand back and pushed herself up to sit in the narrow twin bed, blinking herself awake.
Where the hell am I?
In two seconds, she recognized the massive bookshelf against the wall and the desk against the window. Cheyenne groaned and vigorously rubbed her cheeks.
Still at Chez Summerlin. I did everything I could to stay out of here.
The halfling blinked at the ceiling and tossed her childhood comforter off before slipping out of bed. When her gaze fell on the shallow crater she’d blasted into the floor, she winced. She stooped to drag the black area rug from in front of the bookshelf to the divot in the floor, covering it relatively well.
Eleanor’s gonna find this the next time she cleans in here. Right now, I’m pretty sure a dented floor is the last thing on Mom’s mind.
Cheyenne slipped into her clothes from yesterday, then grabbed her phone off the nightstand to check for messages. There was nothing. “So, Corian found nothing, or he’s just too busy to bother. Fine.”
She shoved the phone into her back pocket and froze when the sounds of soft laughter and clinking glasses carried toward her from down the hall. Tilting her head, the halfling opened the door to her old bedroom and glanced at the breakfast room at the back of the second story. The doors were open, and she caught a brief glimpse of Eleanor walking across the room before the woman disappeared.
They sound awfully happy, considering what’s going on right outside.
The halfling shuffled down the hall, running her fingers through her tangled black hair. A few strands caught on her septum piercing, and she grimaced as she fought to free her face from her hair. Then she reached the open doors to the breakfast room and raised her eyebrows.
They’d rearranged the chairs to face the long, curved wall of windows so Ember could roll her wheelchair up to the very center. In the cream
armchairs on either side of Cheyenne’s fae friend sat Bianca Summerlin and Eleanor, both of them dressed and ready for the day.
Eleanor had just sat back down in her chair but turned with a grin when Cheyenne cleared her throat. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Bianca shot the woman an amused glance before raising her Bloody Mary to her lips. “We thought we’d let you sleep in this morning, Cheyenne.”
The halfling smirked. “It’s only seven-thirty.”
“Correct.” Bianca drank. “I do hope that’s not nearly as late as you normally sleep. Doesn’t your earliest class start at eight-thirty?”
Cheyenne shot the back of her mom’s head a playful frown. If it was anyone else, I’d wonder how she knew that.
“Not anymore.” The halfling crossed the wide room toward the three women enjoying themselves and the now-less-peaceful view of the valley behind Bianca Summerlin’s home. “I think I started to tell you last night. My schedule’s changed a little.” She stopped behind Ember and put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You doin’ okay in here with these two?”
The fae looked at her over her shoulder and smirked. “I think I can hold my own.”
Eleanor chuckled. “And she didn’t even join us for a Bloody Mary.”
“I had enough to drink last night, thanks.”
Bianca sat back in the cream armchair and lifted her chin. “I admire a woman who knows when to say no, despite her saying no to me.”
Ember shot Eleanor a worried glance, and Bianca’s housekeeper waved her off, whispering, “She’s joking. Mostly. You’re fine.”
Cheyenne headed toward the breakfast cart Eleanor had rolled into the breakfast room every morning for as long as she could remember. The woman had laid out her usual spread: buttered toast with a variety of jams in tiny jars, hardboiled eggs, an assortment of fruit, and a French press, now empty, next to a matching set for cream and sugar. The Bloody Mary tray, of course, sat on a side table beside the cart. The halfling reached for a slice of toast.
“I would very much like to hear how your class schedule has changed, Cheyenne,” Bianca muttered after another sip of her morning cocktail. “Seeing as that is news to me.”
Spreading strawberry jam on her toast, the halfling glanced quickly at her mom, who only stared through the curving wall of windows. “My professors decided all our time was better spent if I taught undergraduate classes instead.”
Eleanor choked on her drink and pressed her napkin to her lips. Bianca shot her a quick glance, the corners of her mouth twitching into a tiny smile. “Do you think it’s time better spent?”
Cheyenne shrugged and took a huge, crunchy bite of toast. “It alleviated a lot of scheduling issues.”
Bianca leaned forward in her chair and turned to look at her daughter for the first time this morning. The halfling hunched over, keeping the crumbs in her mouth, and pulled a napkin from the tray. She didn’t speak again until she’d swallowed her food. “Sorry.”
Her mom leaned back in her chair, satisfied with Cheyenne’s return to proper etiquette. “As long as it works for you. That’s what matters.”
“I always thought you should’ve been teaching those classes anyway,” Eleanor added, twirling her straw in her Blood Mary.
“I could teach my own graduate classes.” Cheyenne caught Ember’s amused glance and forced herself to look out the window to keep from laughing. “Right now, I’m teaching stuff I learned halfway through high school, but it’ll get me my degree, so I was fine with making the change.”
“Not happy with it?” Bianca took another sip of her drink.
“Not quite, but it’s better than nothing. At least I get to choose what I teach. That was part of the deal—a fairly loose lesson plan.”
“I’m glad it’s working for you.” Nodding, Bianca returned the majority of her attention to the view.
Cheyenne didn’t miss the slight flare of her mom’s nostrils as the woman’s gaze once again fell to the huge scar of jagged black stone jutting toward the house from the tree line. The halfling looked across the acres of well-manicured lawn Bianca called her backyard and studied the FRoE agents who’d camped out there overnight. She is not happy about that, but her irritation is way better than leaving her exposed to whatever else might come out of that new portal.
She couldn’t help but try to make light of it. “How’s the morning entertainment?”
Bianca rolled her eyes. “Not entertaining in the slightest, Cheyenne. You know how I feel about this entire arrangement.”
“I do.” The halfling took another bite of toast.
“I also am perfectly aware of the necessity.” Bianca tilted her head and rested it gently against the back of the armchair. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“The morning doesn’t quite start off the same way with such a different view,” Eleanor added. She glanced at Cheyenne and raised her eyebrows.
That’s code for Mom woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Can’t blame her.
The halfling scanned the breakfast cart for coffee cups, and Eleanor seemed to read her mind in an instant. “Oh, Cheyenne. Let me pull another cup out of the cabinet for you.”
“I can get it.”
“No, no. It’s not every day we get to see your smiling face first thing in the morning.” When the housekeeper saw Cheyenne’s deadpan expression, she snorted. “See? Lovely. And I might as well make myself useful when our routine’s been interrupted as it has been. Pull up a chair, sweetheart. I’ll get you some coffee.”
“It’s dangerous for me to argue with you this morning, isn’t it?”
Bianca choked back a small laugh as Eleanor pushed out of the armchair. “Your mother seems to think that’s funny, but I’ll tell you right now that you’re absolutely right. We all have a job to do.” Eleanor turned toward the back of the breakfast room and shrieked.
“Eleanor!” Bianca nearly spilled her cocktail in surprise. “What in the world?”
The housekeeper stared with wide eyes at the dark circle of light appearing midair just inside the double doors. Cheyenne whirled to see the conjured portal opening even wider, then Corian stepped through into Bianca Summerlin’s house.
The halfling’s mother leaped to her feet, her tall bloody Mary glass clenched tightly in one hand, which she extended out to the side as if to keep the suddenly-appearing nightstalker away from her drink. “What is that?”
Shit.
Cheyenne leaped forward, giving Eleanor’s shoulders a brief, gentle squeeze as she passed the woman. “I got it, Mom. It’s fine.”
“Wait.” Corian stared with glowing silver eyes at Bianca Summerlin, the tufted points of his ears twitching in confusion.
“Out.” Cheyenne pointed into the second-floor hallway as she stormed toward him.
The nightstalker blinked rapidly and shook his head before finding the presence of mind to cast an illusion spell. The feline features of his face flashed briefly before shifting into those of a human man with blond hair and a slight flush creeping up the sides of his neck.
“Cheyenne,” Bianca warned, not moving as she stared at Corian, the cat-man who’d just appeared out of thin air in her breakfast room.
“I’ll take care of it. Be right back.” The halfling shoved Corian backward out of the room, spinning him before pushing him farther into the hall.
He kept trying to steal glances over his shoulder at her mom, who glared at him, one eye twitching until Cheyenne pulled the French doors closed behind her.
“What were you thinking? You can’t just open a portal wherever you want. Especially not in this house.”
The nightstalker snorted and shook his head, unable to wipe the surprised smile off his human-looking lips. “Good to see you too, kid. I got your text.”
Chapter Two
“That was seriously delayed.” Cheyenne folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “I texted you almost twelve hours ago.”
“What can I say? I was busy following that name.”<
br />
“Did it lead to a person?”
“Oh, yeah. And then some.” The fiery light of triumph glinted behind the nightstalker’s eyes, even through his illusion. “And I stopped by your apartment. You did it, Cheyenne.”
The halfling’s eyes widened when Corian withdrew her drow legacy box from behind his back. The runes glowed with a soft golden light all over the copper surface, every layer locked into place and now forming a much larger pattern of runes she still didn’t understand.
“I did it,” she muttered, staring at the lockbox.