Quote The Drow Nevermore (Goth Drow Book 2)

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Quote The Drow Nevermore (Goth Drow Book 2) Page 3

by Martha Carr


  When she didn’t hear any other footsteps coming down the walkway outside, she reached into the other pocket of her jacket and pulled open the FRoE burner phone. There were only two numbers on there, which made it a lot easier to know which belonged to whom. Cheyenne hesitated for a second, then shrugged and called the second number. “They owe me, and they know it.”

  Rhynehart picked up on the third ring. “I don’t have to tell you how weird it is to see this number pop up on my phone.”

  “This isn’t my favorite call to make, either.”

  “What do you want, rookie?”

  “You people have got to start some kinda cleanup crew.”

  A wry laugh came over the line. “I’ll send the suggestion up to my superiors. You get yourself in some magical-on-magical trouble?”

  “More like they tried to bring the trouble to me. And failed.”

  “How stupid of them.” There was another long pause, then Rhynehart chuckled. “All right, rookie. Text me the address, and I’ll send someone over. Just hang out until my guys show up.”

  “Better not take all day.”

  “You’re welcome.” He hung up, and Cheyenne just rolled her eyes.

  But she texted him Ember’s address and shoved the phone back into her jacket pocket. Great. Now I get to babysit.

  * * *

  Forty minutes later, the front door opened again. Two FRoE operatives in black fatigues stepped into Ember’s apartment, to find the drow halfling slumped on the beige couch in the living room, one arm thrown over the back. There was a huge charred hole in the fabric and feathers everywhere. Two goblins this time, and one of them was the abnormally tall, muscular one with the yellow braid down the center of his head and the giant bullring in his nose. The shorter goblin shut the door behind them and let out a low whistle. “Stepped into the wrong apartment, huh?”

  The female voice coming from the shorter goblin surprised Cheyenne. This one’s head was shaved bald, showing the scars on her scalp. Only when she turned to look at the halfling did Cheyenne see the eyepatch over the goblin’s right eye.

  “Something like that.”

  The tall goblin with the bull-ring chuckled and nodded for his partner to start what they’d come here to do with two unconscious thugs on the floor. Then he made his way toward Cheyenne on the couch and stuck out his hand. “If Rhynehart had told me we’d find you here, I probably wouldn’t have bitched so much about being put on maid duty.”

  The halfling stood. She didn’t think she’d actually shake the goblin’s hand until she did. “I’m guessing you guys know more about how to take out the trash than I do.”

  “Probably, yeah.”

  The sound of the troll’s body thumping onto the floor made them both turn. The female goblin had pulled the unconscious magical away from the stand and now knelt beside him as she unfastened a pair of dampening cuffs from the loop at her belt. She paused, looked up at Cheyenne and Bullring, and muttered, “What are you losers staring at?”

  Cheyenne snorted. “I like her.”

  “Yeah, Payton’s been a real dick since that imp’s dagger took out her eye.”

  Payton rolled her good eye and didn’t even try to be gentle while jerking the unconscious troll’s arms behind his back. “I was a real standup goblin before that.”

  The halfling smirked. “Oh, yeah?”

  “No.” The one-eyed operative clamped the dampening cuffs together with a metallic click and pushed to her feet to head toward the skaxen.

  “We’ll take care of these idiots,” Bull-ring said before taking another sweeping glance of Ember’s apartment. “Not sure we can do anything about the walls, though. Or the couch.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t think FRoE Special Forces were trained in redecorating, anyway.”

  The tall goblin let out a gruff laugh and folded his arms. “You know, I wasn’t sure about you ‘til I saw the way you blasted through those bastards at the church the other night. These two were probably a walk in the park compared to that, but I’m still impressed.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” My newest FRoE fan, huh? Yeah, this isn’t weird.

  “I’m Yurik.” He nodded at her, and Cheyenne nodded back, not quite ready to give him her name just yet, whether or not Sir and Rhynehart had already shared it. Yurik tried to wipe the smirk off his lips. “You got a phone on you?”

  She frowned. “How else do you think I called for backup?”

  “Lemme see it.” The goblin gestured for her to cough it up, and Cheyenne gladly pulled the burner phone from her jacket pocket before dropping it into Yurik’s outstretched turquoise hand. He flipped it open and started typing, thankfully without any comments about the crappy flip phone. When he was done, he snapped the phone shut again and handed it back. “All right. Now you have my number, just in case you make another mess and need to call in a crew.”

  Cheyenne pocketed the phone with a crooked smile. “Is ‘Maid’ your new official title?”

  “Nice try. It’s the least I can do, given the way you helped round up those kid-killers and their black-magic bullshit. I don’t offer that service to just anybody.”

  “Right. Well, I appreciate it.”

  “Looks like we’re on the same page, then.” Yurik chuckled again, his yellow eyes glinting at her.

  “Hey, pretty boy,” Payton called from where she stooped over the knocked-out skaxen. The dampening cuffs clamped down around those bright-orange wrists, and the goblin grunted. “Unless you wanna cough up your MREs for the next week, cut it out with the chatting and do your job.”

  Yurik scoffed and turned a crooked smile on his partner. “You need help cuffing two idiots who can’t even move?”

  “You need me to beat your ass? Again?”

  “I better get outta here.” Cheyenne grabbed the tote full of Ember’s things off the couch and nodded at Yurik as she made her way across the living room. “Thanks for the cleanup.”

  “No problem.”

  She couldn’t help herself when she passed the one-eyed goblin on her way to the door. “Nice to meet you, Payton.”

  The goblin sent a half-assed kick into the skaxen’s ribs and muttered, “Fuck off.”

  With a snort, Cheyenne opened the door and stepped out into the open-air hallway of the apartment building. Before she forgot, she locked the door from the inside and left it cracked a little before returning the spare key to its place under the mat.

  The halfling slipped back into human Goth grad student just as Ember’s neighbor across the hall opened his front door. The guy froze, then shut his eyes and tried to shake off what he’d just seen. “Did you just…”

  Cheyenne lifted her chin and gave him a tight smile. “Nice morning, huh?”

  She didn’t wait for a response before heading back down the hall toward the parking lot. For having been attacked by a couple of crazies who clearly thought she was someone else, Cheyenne felt pretty good—even if she was apparently digging herself deeper and deeper into the FRoE when she wanted the exact opposite. Whatever makes it easier to squeeze what I want out of L’zar. Because I will.

  Chapter Five

  Ember pushed herself up a little straighter in the hospital bed when Cheyenne stepped through the door of Room 317. The fae shot her friend a wide grin. “I was starting to think you’d gone back to sleep or something.”

  “Nope. Just got a little hung up.” The halfling slipped the tote off her shoulder, and Ember patted the bed beside her.

  When she reached into the bag, she looked like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning, all grinning and wide-eyed. Until she pulled out the books. “Cheyenne.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What the hell is this?”

  “You said any of the books on your desk, so I grabbed the ones on top and stuck ‘em in.”

  Ember pulled out the first and turned it so her friend could see the cover. “The Grapes of Wrath? Seriously?”

  “How was I supposed to know you weren’t in the moo
d for Steinbeck? It’s better than Good Housekeeping.” The halfling pulled the uncomfortable armchair up beside the bed and lifted herself into it, crossing her legs beneath her.

  “I’m in the hospital, and I can’t walk. Reading’s supposed to help me escape, not make me even more depressed.”

  Cheyenne couldn’t hold back a little laugh. “It’s not that depressing. I like that kinda stuff. When I feel like reading.”

  Ember puffed out a sigh through loose lips and took in the sight of her friend—black shirt, black pants, heavy black eye makeup, chains around her wrists, and all the piercings. “Yeah, you would. I didn’t know you liked reading much of anything.”

  “I don’t. I’ll go back later and get you something about rainbows and unicorns if you want.”

  “Ha.” The fae rolled her eyes and shoved the book back into her bag. “It’s fine. Thanks for picking all this up for me.”

  “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Not a lie. “So, question.”

  “Go.”

  “Who else knows about you being a third-generation Earthside fae with no magic?”

  Ember shot her friend a curious frown. “You mean, besides my whole family, who wishes I didn’t exist just to shame the bloodline? You. And then, well, Trevor and his other halfling friends.”

  Who left you to bleed out without a second thought. Cheyenne cleared her throat. “Anyone else?”

  “It’s not the best conversation starter.” The fae shot her friend a sidelong glance. “And it’s not like I have anything to hide. Not like you.”

  “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I just mean the whole trying-not-to-let-the-pointy-ears-stick-out-of-all-that-hair thing.” Shaking her head, Ember let out a small laugh and scooted the tote of her things up the bed so she could throw her arm over it. “You know what I mean. Why? Who brought it up?”

  “No one brought it up, exactly.” The halfling scratched the back of her head. “I ran into a little trouble at your apartment. Just wondering if anyone else knew what you were and thought they’d come to find you or something.”

  “What kinda trouble?”

  “I took care of it. It’s fine.”

  “Cheyenne.” Ember folded her arms and shot her friend a stern look. “Remember when I told you you’re a really bad liar?”

  “Okay, fine. A couple of scumbags showed up at your place, looking for a fight.” The halfling chuckled. “And I gave it to them.”

  “They did what now?”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure they were just trying to get me if no one else knows about you. I guess they wouldn’t have been spouting all that weird shit about eyes following me and some lady who apparently ‘found my scent.’” Cheyenne shrugged and picked at a black-painted nail.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. I have no idea what those guys were goin’ on about, but they seemed pretty sure I was someone else.” The halfling tapped her chest. “And they had these weird pendants in the shape of a bull’s head. I’ve been seeing them on a lot of messed-up magicals running around. Any idea what they mean?”

  Ember sighed and brushed her hair away from her face. “No clue. Sounds like a bunch of crazy to me.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. But L’zar said it was an issue that should’ve stayed in Ambar’ogúl—”

  “Wait, wait, wait! Back up. L’zar?”

  Cheyenne looked up from her nails and broke into a crooked smile. “Oh, yeah. Maybe I should’ve started with that.”

  “Ya think? Did you go see him?”

  “This morning.”

  Ember smacked her hands together and bounced a little in the hospital bed. “How is that not the first thing you tell me when you walk in the door? Come on!”

  “Sorry.” Cheyenne laughed. “I know it’s not even noon, but it’s already been a weird day.”

  “No shit. Tell me everything.”

  The halfling took in her friend’s surprising eagerness and debated saying anything, but only for a second. At least someone cares. “It, uh, well, it definitely didn’t go the way I expected.”

  Ember snorted. “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. An apology, maybe. More of an explanation for why he just left my mom instead of some bullshit excuse.”

  “Which was…”

  Cheyenne rolled her eyes and did her best impression of L’zar’s low, apathetic voice. “‘Because I had to.’”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “I know. And that’s how the whole conversation went. I mean, it wasn’t even a real conversation, just a bunch of vague answers and him laughing at me. The worst part is, he didn’t even ask about my mom. Like, not a single thing, and then he said he didn’t want to hear about her because I was more interesting.”

  Ember’s jaw dropped, and she blinked. “What a dick.”

  Cheyenne shrugged. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the conclusion I came to. So, I…” Another short laugh escaped her.

  “What?” Ember leaned toward her, eyes wide with curiosity.

  “I said this safe word that turned on the alarm and put him under lockdown. Red lights, siren, turned the bars of his cell into a giant bug zapper for magicals.”

  “Good.” The fae barked a laugh. “Bet that pissed him off.”

  “No. He just laughed like the whole thing was just one big game, and he just wanted to see what I’d do.”

  “Woah.” Leaning back against the propped-up bed and all the pillows behind her, Ember let out a long sigh. “You gonna go see him again?”

  “No clue. I’m not sure I even wanna think about that right now. I have other things going on that feel more important.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

  Cheyenne pressed her lips together and tried not to laugh. “Well, for starters, I’m gonna have to find the time to go back to your place and…clean up the little mess I made.”

  “’Little’ mess?”

  Squinting, the halfling slowly met her friend’s blue-eyed gaze. “Medium-small, maybe. Hey, I saved the TV, so there’s that.”

  “Lovely.” Ember plastered on a tight smile. “Please tell me the bamboo survived.”

  “I promise, no plants were harmed in the ass-kicking of the magical intruders.” Cheyenne drew a cross over her heart, and they both laughed. “Dunno if your couch survived. Maybe if you get it reupholstered…”

  “Nah. I wanted a new one, anyway.”

  “Cool. I’ll buy you new pillows, too.”

  Ember barked out a laugh. “How did my pillows get pulled into a fight?”

  “We don’t have to go into details.” With another chuckle, Cheyenne shook her head and thought about Yurik and Payton in her friend’s apartment. “But all the evidence got taken care of. Oh, and I almost forgot the most important thing.”

  The fae threw her arms in the air and let them drop back into her lap with a thump. “It better not be worse than blowing up my living room with drow magic.”

  “No, no. It’s way better.” Licking her lips, Cheyenne leaned toward the bed and took a deep breath. “Guess who I found on the—”

  A light knock came at the door, then Dr. Andrews stepped into Ember’s hospital room and paused. “Oh. You’re back.”

  “Hey, Doc.” The halfling shot him a sarcastic salute. This guy has the worst timing.

  “Just coming in to check on my favorite patient in Room 317.” The doctor closed the door behind him and walked slowly toward the bed, his tablet cradled in the crook of his arm. “While you’re here, though, how’s the shoulder?”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s feeling great, actually. Good work.” Nodding quickly, Cheyenne slid out of the armchair and pushed it back into place against the wall beside the window.

  Ember shot her a confused look. “It’s feeling great?”

  The halfling leaned in to wrap Ember in a quick hug and whispered in her friend’s ear, “L’zar. I’ll tell you about it later.” She pulled back and gave the fae’s shoulders a squeeze. “N
ow that you have your personal effects, I gotta get goin’. Happy reading, right?”

  She shot Ember a wink, and her friend rolled her eyes. “Oh, jeez.”

  “See ya later, Doc. Keep up the good work with my friend. She deserves it.” Nodding at the confused doctor, Cheyenne patted the foot of the bed as she stepped around it and headed for the door.

  “You know, if you want me to take another look at your shoulder, I’m happy to—”

  “No, thanks. I’m good. Enjoy your Sunday.” She slipped out the door and headed quickly down the hall. That guy gets nosier every time I see him. And I have more work to do.

  She wished she could have at least told Ember she was finally about to bash in the front door of the orc scumbag who shot her, but the look on her friend’s face when Cheyenne gave her the news afterward would be just as satisfying.

  Chapter Six

  Glen finished booting up in Cheyenne’s tiny living room just as the microwave beeped. She went to grab the steaming tray of now-unfrozen enchiladas from the convenience store down the street. The silverware drawer was empty, all the forks either in the sink or tossed haphazardly in the dishwasher. She pulled open the junk drawer in the kitchen, rummaged around, and snatched a plastic fork wrapped in more plastic with salt and pepper packets. No downside to takeout.

  She brought it all back to her computer setup, dropped into her chair, and set the enchiladas down to cool off just a little. Getting her VPN and the torrent fired up to hop onto the dark web took her no time at all, and then she was right back in the Borderlands forum to search for a few more things before her long-awaited reunion with Durg. This time, I’m going in prepared.

  She skimmed through the newest topics, looking for anything about the area of Jackson Ward just on the other side of the skatepark. One of the topics titled, Bombs Underground Gets Freaky on East Clay caught her eye, only because that street was just blocks from the skatepark. But apparently, Bombs Underground was actually a heavy-metal band with all magical members that was set to play at some tiny little venue a block down from Gnarly’s Pub. She wrinkled her nose and went ahead with leaving a comment, just to see what might stick.

 

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