Quote The Drow Nevermore (Goth Drow Book 2)

by Martha Carr

  “Not a rhetorical question, Cheyenne. I’m talking about you and the look on your face when our anonymous friend booked it back out that door. If you don’t know who it was, you know something. Spill it.”

  “There’s nothing to spill, man. Sorry.” She couldn’t look at him. I can’t trust him either, and I’m not about to throw Corian under the bus, even if he called me a moron.

  “You’re not sorry at all.” Rhynehart cleared his throat and turned onto the freeway to head toward Richmond.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, they pulled up in front of the red diner where Cheyenne had negotiated herself into another meeting with L’zar just hours ago.

  Cheyenne glanced around the mostly empty parking lot and licked her lips in frustration. “I’m still not hungry. Just take me back to the compound with you so we can finish this thing with those kids.”

  “Nice try, halfling.” Rhynehart shifted into park and whipped his sunglasses off before fixing her with an angry scowl. “Wherever you’re going tonight, it’s not back to base. You have priorities to work out.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk.” She snorted. “Right now, my top priority is helping those kids get back to their families.”

  “Cross it off the list. And don’t even try to sneak back to the compound after you get out of my car. Yeah, I heard all about your fun little night out with my agents last night. There’s no point in blindfolding you anymore on the drive over, but if I have to, I’ll put out an order to keep you off the base for as long as it takes.”

  Cheyenne blinked furiously. “You can’t just tell me to screw off—”

  “That’s exactly what I’m doin’, kid. Get out.”

  “Hey, I’m the one who found those kids in the first place, asshole!” It threw her off more than she’d expected when the usual heat of her drow magic didn’t show up at all with her anger. “They’d still be locked up in that psychotic ritual den if I hadn’t found the connection to Ranzig Ca’admar.”

  “Yeah, you get full credit for that one. Go get yourself a cookie.” Rhynehart nodded toward the driver’s side door, his eyes narrowing. “My guys are the ones who get to deal with those kids now. You’re off the hook. Unless you wanna spill this second what you’re trying not to tell me.”

  I can’t believe this. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Then get the hell out of my Jeep and call me when you’re ready to talk about what happened back there. We’re done.”

  Biting down hard on her lower lip, Cheyenne let out a little growl and jerked open the passenger side door. Rhynehart took off in the Jeep the same second she slammed the door shut behind her. She was left standing in front of her scuffed, chipped, matte-gray Ford Focus in the diner’s parking lot.

  When she jammed her hand back into the pocket of her jacket to grab her keys, she hissed and glanced down at her forearm. The jacket sleeves had been ripped almost to shreds by that crazed skaxen spouting crazier demands about “swearing fealty,” and her forearms burned now.

  She unlocked her car, opened the door, and gingerly shrugged out of the jacket. It thumped onto the passenger seat, then the halfling studied the long red gouges in her skin, some of them a quarter of an inch deep. “Skaxen asshole.”

  Should’ve stocked up on healing ingredients at Peridosh last night.

  Cheyenne bent and dropped into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut behind her, and started the engine. For a few minutes, she just sat there, debating whether Rhynehart’s warning was worth listening to tonight. Then she shook her head and buckled up. “I already played my leverage card to get into Chateau D’rahl. Nobody likes a drow showing up uninvited and making more demands.”

  The gray Ford Focus pulled out of the parking lot, and the halfling headed onto the highway toward downtown Richmond.

  * * *

  With bags of takeout swinging from her hands, Cheyenne stalked down the corridor of the inpatient recovery ward of the VCU Medical Center. She didn’t look up from the linoleum floor in front of her, even when she felt the nurses and care staff staring at the Goth chick. This stupid necklace might block off my magic, but I’m still pissed enough to be one scary human.

  When she reached Room 317, she did a little shuffle with the takeout bags before knocking quickly on the door.

  “Come in.” Ember sounded cheery enough, and she looked happy to see Cheyenne when the halfling pushed open the door. Then her smile faded. “What happened to you?”

  “Weird day.” Cheyenne shut the door behind her and headed across the hospital room toward her friend’s bed.

  “That’s an understatement. You look like shit.”

  The halfling stopped halfway across the room and looked at Ember in surprise. The magicless fae in the hospital bed smirked, and Cheyenne laughed. “Okay, fine. Weird and seriously messed-up day, with a side order of what-the-fuck.”

  Ember laughed. “That’s more like it.”

  When she reached the other side of the bed, Cheyenne dropped the takeout bags on the rolling table, then turned to pull the ridiculously uncomfortable armchair as close as she could to her friend. “Hope you’re in the mood for burgers.”

  “Come on, Cheyenne. I’m always in the mood for burgers.” Ember started unpacking the food, slowing a little when she noticed the nasty gouges in the half-drow’s forearms. “I’m also in the mood for hearing the wild story of how your arms met Freddy Krueger and why you have chunks of wall in your hair. That is just wall, right?”

  “What?” The halfling leaned over the side of the armchair and ruffled her hair. The chains around her wrists clinked as drywall and plaster chunks dropped onto the floor. “Oh, yeah. That. Just another day in halfling paradise, right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Ember pulled one of the burgers into her lap and slowly unwrapped it. “I’m listening.”

  With a sigh, Cheyenne ran her hand through her hair again and looked at the ceiling for a good neck stretch. “We found those kids.”

  “The kids?” Eyes trained on the halfling, Ember took a huge bite of her burger, barbeque sauce and a piece of onion ring landed on the paper wrapper with a splat.

  “I didn’t tell you about that?” Cheyenne shrugged. “Damn. I guess it’s only been two days. Feels like two weeks.”

  When she looked at Ember, the fae girl just stared at her and shoved more burger into her mouth, silently waiting for the halfling to keep going.

  “Okay, this is gonna sound nuts.”

  Ember laughed and managed not to spray her mouthful of greasy dinner all over her lap and the hospital blankets. “Compared to what? All your stories are crazy, Cheyenne. It’s the best part of my day when I get to hear ‘em.”

  “You’re just itching for your next fix of halfling drama, huh?”

  “Believe it or not, the entertainment’s pretty lacking around here.” Ember leaned toward her friend and whispered, “I think the nurses are going out of their way to make sure I’m as bored as possible.”

  “Good thing we’re friends.” For the first time since finding out those magical kids had been kidnapped yesterday morning, Cheyenne Summerlin had a reason to smile. “Okay. You eat, and I’ll talk.”

  Ember took another huge bite and wiggled her eyebrows.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Ember finished her burger and the side of sweet potato fries halfway through Cheyenne’s story—the bomb at the construction site, all the kids’ clothes in a pile, the halfling’s second stay in the FRoE’s medical wing. The fae sucked down the raspberry iced tea like she hadn’t had anything to drink in days when Cheyenne got to the part about visiting L’zar a second time at Chateau D’rahl.

  “Sounds like he lost his mind in that place.”

  The halfling shook her head. “I’m pretty sure he was like that before they locked him up. Still not convinced he’s sane.”

  “But he knew about that goblin pretending to be a FRoE agent, right?” Ember wiped her hands on a napkin and tossed it into the plastic takeout ba
g, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that sentence just came out of my mouth.”

  Cheyenne chuckled and shrugged. “Pretty weird to hear about all this insider FRoE crap when you’ve been trying to stay away from them your whole life, huh? Maybe that’s how I got into this mess. I had no idea who they were.”

  “Maybe. Or you’re just a badass who can handle anybody.”

  “Yeah, right.” Rolling her eyes, the halfling finished off the last of her burger and turned to her side of fries. “And L’zar didn’t know who the traitor was.”

  “Really? How do you figure that?”

  “How would he know? He’s been locked up in there for decades. Okay, minus the three-day vacation when he met my mom.”

  Ember snorted.

  “I think it’s more like L’zar knew that I knew, and he was just trying to dig up the pieces so I could see it all clearly and ignore everything else. Which is totally weird when I think about it like that.”

  “No kidding. Estranged prisoner dad knowing your head better than you do? Yeah, Cheyenne, I bet that’s pretty creepy.”

  The halfling munched on more fries. “But it worked. And we found the assholes who took those kids. Got ‘em all out of there safely, and they’ll be back home by the end of the night.” They better be.

  “There’s one thing I don’t get, though,” Ember said, then drained the last of her tea.

  “What, I didn’t give you enough of a detailed play-by-play?” Cheyenne smirked.

  “No, that part was great. Super efficient. But the half-drow I know wouldn’t walk away from a bunch of terrified kids freshly pulled out of a kidnapper mansion.” The fae frowned with a small, confused smile. “Why the hell did you come to see me instead of going with those kids?”

  With a groan, Cheyenne slumped against the back of the armchair, grimacing at the dull ache in her forearms. “We had a little help in that house. From a Nightstalker friend.”

  “For real?”

  “Who’s apparently really pissed that I took off this stupid necklace to save all those kids. And nobody knows about him.”

  “Huh.”

  “Yeah, so my options were to give up the one person I know who knows L’zar Verdys or be on my merry way. I’ve been kicked out of the FRoE compound for now.”

  Ember snorted. “Their loss.”

  “Yeah. And Corian’s pissed at me. I’m not going over to his place tonight after his little lecture on not being a halfling idiot. I thought about checking out the Borderland forums and at least letting the families know their kids are safe, but the guy’s one of the admins on there too. Guess I’m just not feeling the whole, ‘Let’s pretend he didn’t call me an idiot so we can act like nothing happened’ part.”

  “He’ll cool off.” Ember ran a hand through her hair and shrugged. “You need him. He knows it. And it sounds like he’s got a lot invested in your drow trials, or whatever.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Cheyenne laughed. “It’s still weird. I have a Nightstalker professor showing me the ropes of not going apeshit whenever I’m pissed, and now I have a Nightstalker mentor who knows more about these stupid trials than I do. Because he knows L’zar.”

  “And he found you at that mansion.” Ember wrinkled her nose. “That’s creepy. Really puts the stalker in Nightstalker.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s been watching me for a long time. Waiting for me to be ready. Jesus, I’m so tired of people telling me I have to wait ‘til I’m ready.”

  With a small laugh, Ember sat back against the elevated hospital bed and fluffed the limp pillow behind her back. “You’re the only person who gets to decide when you’re ready, Cheyenne. And everybody knows it.”

  The halfling studied the long gashes in her arms and let out another heavy sigh. “And yet, everybody’s trying to hold the halfling back.”

  “Trying and failing. They’ll get it through their thick heads eventually.”

  The fae’s grin was infectious, and Cheyenne found herself laughing with her friend. “Thanks, Em. I’m glad I’m not the only person who gets it.”

  “That’s what I’m here for, right? Your sidekick holed up in a—”

  A knock came at the door, and without waiting for a reply, Dr. Andrews stepped into the room with a stack of papers in his hand. He paused when he caught sight of the Goth chick looking like she’d just been dragged through a demolition site, then closed the door behind him. “I see your mysterious friend’s come back for another visit.”

  “Hey, Doc.” Cheyenne gave him a tight smile. “How’s it goin’?”

  “Well, I can say with complete confidence that my night’s been a lot less exciting than yours.”

  The halfling shrugged and shared a knowing glance with her friend. “If you say so.”

  “But I do have some exciting news for you, Ms. Gaderow. Should I assume you’d like your friend here with you to hear it?”

  “That’s a pretty safe assumption, yeah.” Ember grinned as Dr. Andrews approached the foot of her hospital bed, her eyes trained on the paperwork in his hands.

  “Okay, then. We’ve got everything set up to get you discharged and out of here tomorrow, Ember. At this point, there’s not much more we can do for you here at the hospital, so you get to go home. If you’re ready for it, I’ve got a referral to get you started with physical therapy on Monday.”

  “Seriously?” Ember’s face lit up, and she turned toward Cheyenne to flash her friend a goofy, open-mouthed expression of surprise. “I’m getting out!”

  “Tomorrow, yes.” Dr. Andrews glanced at the friends and readjusted his glasses. “You’ll need someone to help you get home and settled into a slightly different routine.”

  Cheyenne snorted. “I’ve met doctors with zero bedside manner. You’re not one of them.”

  “If that’s a compliment, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “These are your discharge instructions.” Dr. Andrews stepped around the other side of the bed to hand the papers to Ember. “You’ll sign everything else tomorrow, and then you’re on to the next step.”

  “Awesome.” Ember scanned the papers, flipping through them quickly and shaking her head in disbelief. “Thought this was gonna take a lot longer. Hey, Cheyenne, I know you have a lot going on right now, but—”

  “I gotcha.” With a wry laugh, the halfling patted her friend’s leg and nodded. “Whatever you need, Em, I’m here. All the other stuff I’ve got going on can wait.”

  Ember tried to bring her grin back under control and failed. “I’m one seriously lucky chick in a hospital bed.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Then make sure you two go over the discharge instructions together,” Dr. Andrews added. “There’s a lot of information in there, and there’ll be a lot more when you start your PT, Ember.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” The magicless fae went back to scanning the ten different documents he’d given her.

  Then the doctor’s gaze settled on the halfling’s forearm. “Got yourself more battle wounds, I see.”

  Don’t laugh. He has no idea. “Yeah, I’m prone to accidents, I guess.”

  “Yes, I remember you mentioning that last time. What happened there?”

  “Uh…” Cheyenne studied the gashes in her arm. “Rat problem.”

  Ember turned toward the bedside table and reached for her empty tea so Dr. Andrews wouldn’t see her shoot the halfling a warning look.

  The doctor frowned. “That’s one big rat.”

  “Growth hormones in the food or something, right?” Cheyenne lowered her hand into her lap again and shrugged. “I know it’s against the rules and all to even ask—”

  “You don’t have to.” Dr. Andrews raised an eyebrow at the halfling and shook his head. “I’ll be right back with some antibacterial ointment and bandages. Unless you need someone to pull another piece of sci-fi tech out of those wounds.”

  Ember barked a laugh and clapped her hands over her mouth.


  “Naw, Doc. Nothing to pull out this time.” The halfling hunched forward a little as she fought back her laugh.

  “Okay. You don’t ask, I won’t ask, and we’ll leave it at that. Give me a few minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And it goes without saying, but I have to say it anyway. Ms. Gaderow’s recovery will be a lot smoother and faster without flying shrapnel and rat problems. We can all agree it’s best to keep those out of the equation?”

  “Absolutely.” Cheyenne raised one hand in a silent oath.

  Ember shrugged. “And I hate rats, so…”

  “Uh-huh.” Dr. Andrews gave the chuckling women another dubious glance, then hesitantly turned back toward the door before slipping out into the hall.

  Ember’s laughter finally exploded out of her with full force. “’Sci-fi tech?’”

  The halfling wiggled her head and lowered her voice to mimic the doctor’s attempt at seriousness. “That’s one big rat.”

  They burst out laughing again, and Cheyenne almost forgot about her stinging arms.

  Chapter Forty

  With both forearms professionally doctored and wrapped in fresh bandages, Cheyenne pulled up in the parking lot of her apartment complex south of Jackson Ward. She grabbed her backpack and shredded jacket from the passenger seat, then glanced behind her. She stared at the Incredible Hulk backpack on the back seat and shrugged. “Yeah, okay. Who knows what that imp would do to try to steal these back?”

  She grabbed the backpack—with the metal skull necklace she knew belonged to Durg’s orc niece—and got out of her car. The autumn air was chilly through what was left of her tattered turtleneck. The halfling eyed her bandaged forearms just beneath where Dr. Andrews had cut the shredded sleeves away and dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Clean, wrapped, and warm. The doc does good work.”

  The hallway on the third floor was empty and silent. Cheyenne let out a little sigh of relief when she passed her troll neighbors’ front door without it opening. Not in the mood for a troll family tonight, as nice as they are. And weird.