Once Upon A Midnight Drow (Goth Drow Book 1)

by Martha Carr

  Gritting her teeth, Cheyenne shot from both hands. The whipping black tendrils of her magic lashed from the tips of her fingers, and one curled around the goblin’s wrist. Taaz jerked at it, then shot a hissing fireball at Cheyenne. He pulled his wrist free when she ducked beneath the fiery attack.

  The goblin pulled down stacked supply crates after him while still shooting green and red spells left and right. He darted between the outbuildings, half-laughing, half-shouting in surprise when he saw Cheyenne coming after him every time he turned around. The drow halfling spotted the group of oblivious magicals seconds before Taaz did. Two female orcs strode on either side of Sha’gron, the troll healer, all three speaking in low tones with small smiles.

  Taaz saw the drow halfling glance at the healer and turned toward Sha’gron with a dawning grin of realization.

  He’s gonna take her down and hope that stops me from coming after him. No way.

  The goblin fired a huge green ball of destructive magic in both hands and took aim. The second before Cheyenne launched into her enhanced drow-speed, Sha’gron turned and locked eyes with the drow halfling. One crimson eyebrow went up above the Troll healer’s violet eyes, and the half-drow made the call.

  I can do both.

  A crack rent the air between two rows of buildings, and Cheyenne darted around a toppling stack of supply crates toward the sneering goblin. With her speed, he moved in slow motion, the green ball bursting from his hands. She hooked one arm around Taaz’s neck to pull him backward. When she dropped out of her enhanced speed, the toppled supply crates exploded with the impact. Another crack filled the air, and the shockwave of such a blisteringly fast stop on the drow halfling’s part tossed everything to the side, including Sha’gron and the two female orcs beside her.

  All three rolled sideways and hit the ground before the goblin’s green attack spell crashed through the air where they would have been standing. It blew a basketball-sized hole in the corner of the closest outbuilding.

  A strangled choke came from the goblin and he grappled at her purple-gray forearm wrapped around his throat, his feet kicking the dirt beneath them until she jerked him upright and nearly crushed his windpipe. With the other hand, she raised a black crackling orb of drow energy and brought it within inches of his blue face. “Stop fighting. Don’t move.”

  Taaz choked and wheezed in response, but he quit struggling.

  Rhynehart and the other rez guards came running toward them through the outbuildings. The FRoE operative trained his pistol on Taaz’s chest while grimacing at the heavy burn on his left shoulder.

  Cheyenne cocked her head to meet Rhynehart’s gaze around the choking goblin’s head. “Seriously? Put that thing away, man. Somebody get some dampening cuffs on this guy because I am not holding him all day.”

  “Get your filthy halfling hands off—”

  The half-drow squeezed Taaz’s throat, choking off the rest of his attempted insult, or threat, or both. The crackling black energy in her hand sparked a little closer to his pale-blue face. “What was that again, goblin?”

  Taaz choked and wheezed some more, but for some reason, he couldn’t get out another word. Rhynehart turned to the huge orc guard Taaz had started the fight with in the first place. “Grab some cuffs, Keb.”

  The orc’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced from Rhynehart to Cheyenne and back again. “Can we do that here?”

  “It doesn’t matter, does it? Taaz blew it.”

  Keb frowned, but he nodded and turned to grab a pair of magic-dampening cuffs from wherever they kept them. Apparently, they didn’t use them in Q1. Rhynehart strode up to Cheyenne and holstered his weapon.

  He nodded at the halfling. “I’m glad I talked you into coming here.”

  Cheyenne snorted. “Yeah. That’s what happened.”

  Then she remembered Sha’gron, the troll healer, and her female-orc escorts. She jerked Taaz to the side enough to glance at the trio, who’d all made it back to their feet. The healer was still dusting herself off after being tossed aside by the speeding drow halfling.

  At least none of them got their heads blown off by that massive goblin bomb.

  Keb jogged back. When he reached Cheyenne and her captive, he nodded and grabbed Taaz’s right wrist. The halfling dropped her black energy so she could snatch up the goblin’s left wrist before letting his neck free. Taaz gasped and sputtered and the orc guard slipped the first cuff onto the wrist as Cheyenne let go, then the blue-skinned troublemaker was cuffed and dampened and harmless.

  Stepping away from the prisoner, Cheyenne nodded at Keb and tried to bring herself out of the buzzing excitement.

  Two in one day. Not bad for my first unrequested FRoE ride-along.

  The thought made her snort, and as Keb dragged Taaz away, Cheyenne took a deep breath and centered herself. She shifted back into human form.

  Practice makes…I guess, better at this point.

  When she looked at Rhynehart, the man raised an eyebrow and gave her a slow nod. An immense metal bang came from behind her, and Cheyenne turned to look over her shoulder.

  Sha’gron, the troll healer, stood beside the dark-gray metal door of the closest outbuilding, her fist poised inches away. She stared at Cheyenne with a knowing smile that made the drow halfling’s stomach twist on itself.

  There it is again. That look.

  The healer thumped her fist on the door again with another echoing metallic thud. The female orcs beside her stood on the other side of the door and joined in. Some of the rez guards caught on and pounded their fists on whatever metal objects were close at hand—Rez 38 vehicles, outbuilding doors, metal trunks knocked over from the stacks of supply crates. All of them pitched in, pounding to the quickening beat set by Sha’gron the healer.

  Cheyenne nodded. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

  But the banging didn’t stop. Instead, it got faster and louder. None of the magicals in Q1 said another word, but everywhere she looked, they were pounding on metal doors and trucks and posts, kicking with their boots if their hands weren’t close enough.

  “Oh, boy.” The half-drow took off toward Rhynehart, who looked as surprised by the magicals’ strange reaction as she was. She nodded toward the Intake building and the electric gate serving as Rez 38’s entrance.

  “That’s the weirdest slow clap I’ve ever heard. Let’s get outta here.”

  Rhynehart took another glance at the magicals, all still pounding, although none of them returned his gaze. All eyes were on the drow halfling who was limping away, looking like a pale black-haired Goth chick with dried blood smeared down her right shoulder.

  “Yeah.” The FRoE operative followed Cheyenne through the outbuildings so they could get out of Q1 and away from Rez 38 without having to deal with anything else. “I think we’re done here.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  The electric gate finished opening by the time they reached it. The goblin in the gate tower nodded at Cheyenne on their way out, and she almost lifted a hand in a half-hearted wave until she saw him beating a fist on the stainless-steel table in front of him. What’s with the pounding?

  She wasn’t about to ask Rhynehart. Out of all the things he could’ve told her about the reservations and the Borders and the portals into another world where magic was part of everyday life, she had no doubt the FRoE operative knew less about this than she did.

  They went through the open electric gate and through the magical outer wall that kept the entirety of Reservation 38 invisible to anyone who didn’t know it was there. Cheyenne felt the change when she stepped through, although it wasn’t nearly as strong as moving between the different quarters. She looked over her shoulder, not expecting to spot four magicals walking across the otherwise empty space stretching from the end of the dirt frontage road to the gray rocks stretching out over the cliffs.

  “Hey, what’s that?”

  Rhynehart turned and raised his eyebrows at the scene. “Most of the time, we lock ‘em up, Blakely. But magicals like Taaz,
who get let back out again, don’t need to learn their lesson.”

  Three rez guards in black fatigues jostled the figure Cheyenne now recognized as the unwieldy goblin across the stone toward the edge of the cliff. Taaz struggled a little, but there wasn’t much he could do against three guards and magic-dampening cuffs. Once they got him to the edge of the cliff, one of the guards unlocked the cuffs and gave the detained goblin a massive shove.

  Taaz’s yelp of surprise ended in an echoing snarl, then the goblin and his voice were swallowed by the ocean waves crashing against the rocks below.

  “What the hell?” Cheyenne spun toward Rhynehart, her fists clenched at her sides. “Now you’re killing these people?”

  Rhynehart stared at the edge of the cliff and the three rez guards turning away from it to go back to business as usual before they disappeared into thin air.

  “Hey!” The half-drow slapped the operative’s burned shoulder and shoved him sideways, so he had to face her. Rhynehart grunted and clenched his teeth before shooting her a warning look. “I didn’t come here to help you people murder refugees you can’t get under control. I caught him and saved a bunch of other people from getting hurt, and this is how you deal with it?”

  The FRoE operative grimaced and grabbed his other arm beneath the burned shoulder. “Relax, half—”

  “Don’t tell me to relax, asshole. That goblin is supposed to be behind bars right now, not dead!”

  “Shut up and listen to me, will ya?” Rhynehart gestured with his good arm toward the edge of the cliffs. “That’s the Border, okay? That’s how we ship ‘em back home. Taaz’ll land on the other side with a massive headache, but he’s off our hands for now. Short of killing him, it’s the best we can do.”

  “That’s the…that’s the Border?” Cheyenne sucked in a breath through her teeth and gazed at the edge of the flat, dark-gray rock. “That’s how they come through?”

  “At this particular spot, yeah.” The man ran a hand through his hair and started walking toward the black Jeep at the end of the dirt road. “There’s no way for us to keep magicals from crossing over if that’s what they want to do—if they’re willing to put in all the effort it takes to get themselves to our world. And trust me, rookie, I’ve heard plenty of stories of the kind of effort it takes to cross over. If they wanna do it, they’ll find a way.”

  The half-drow forced herself to relent and follow him, unable to decide between being pissed off and feeling sorry for the goblin who’d gotten tossed out of this world and back into the realm he’d wanted to leave behind.

  “How many times have you sent Taaz back?”

  Rhynehart paused beside the driver’s door of the Jeep and met her gaze over the hood. “That’s the first. It’s not something we take lightly, halfling. You have to screw up to get sent back.”

  He jerked the door open and climbed inside with a grunt. Cheyenne followed him, feeling sore and exhausted, and confused. None of this is what I thought it would be.

  After she closed the passenger door behind her and strapped herself in, Rhynehart started the engine and brought the Jeep around in a tight circle to head down the frontage road. Cheyenne couldn’t help but stare at the side mirror outside her window. There wasn’t anything reflected there but an open swath of land between the thick forest backed by those empty cliffs and the ocean that wasn’t an ocean but a portal into a different world.

  “Have you been to the other side?”

  Rhynehart didn’t look at her. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter with both hands. “No. And I don’t plan on it. You shouldn’t, either.”

  The half-drow glanced at the raw sores on her right shoulder. At least the bleeding and stinging had stopped. Sitting down with little pain and nothing to do while Rhynehart drove them off the reservation made the tiredness sink in, although she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping, not with the tense silence hanging between them and a two-hour drive back to Richmond.

  I could go for one of those stupid broccoli bars about now.

  * * *

  That silence lasted the entire drive. When they got into the greater Richmond area, Rhynehart sniffed and glanced in the rearview mirror, as if he expected someone to be following them. “Where am I dropping you off?”

  “Willow Lawn works.”

  “Seriously?” He shot her a quick glance before returning his attention to the traffic and the upcoming exit for Highway 360. “You relax at a strip mall after a long day of bagging and tagging criminal magicals?”

  She knew he was trying to lighten things up by making fun of her, but she wasn’t in the mood. “You normally ask this many questions about a rookie’s personal life? Or anyone else’s?”

  Rhynehart’s jaw tensed, the muscles there flexing before he took the exit and headed toward the shopping center. “Guess it’s the strip mall, then.”

  He pulled the Jeep up alongside the shopping center and stared straight ahead as Cheyenne unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger door. When she slid out, the operative turned toward her and nodded, although he didn’t meet her gaze. “Keep that phone on you, huh?”

  “Yeah, I know how this works.” Cheyenne shut the door and stepped up onto the sidewalk. She watched the Jeep roll out of the parking lot, and she didn’t move for another five minutes until she was sure Rhynehart had disappeared.

  Well, the mall would’ve been a great idea if I’d left my car here. The things I do to live a double life, huh?

  Cheyenne snorted and started walking toward the Park & Ride off the highway. She still had things to do, especially now that she’d seen the Border reservation and the way FRoE had run things for at least as long as she’d been alive, maybe longer. Cheyenne wasn’t looking forward to any of it.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  She got to the Park & Ride half an hour later after a combination of walking like a normal person and slipping into her drow form for the occasional short burst of speed. Cheyenne would’ve been lying if she’d said she wasn’t drained. Seeing as she had no idea when the FRoE burner phone would ring next, she had to use the extra free time to get things done.

  Cheyenne grabbed her backpack from the trunk of her car and brought it with her to the front. She tossed the burner phone onto the passenger seat beside her backpack and pulled her personal phone out of the pack’s front pocket. The first number she dialed was one she knew by heart.

  “Hi, Cheyenne. I’m assuming you got my message?”

  “Hi, Mom. Yeah, I did. Sorry it took me a while to get back to you.”

  “Don’t apologize. I know you have quite a bit on your plate. Honestly, so do I. Thank you for taking the time to call me back.”

  From anyone else’s mother, this would have sounded like a passive-aggressive attempt to guilt-trip her child into more frequent phone calls. Coming from Bianca Summerlin, it was nothing more than what it seemed—an expression of appreciation.

  “Thanks for answering.” Cheyenne sighed and lifted her hand to run it through her black-dyed hair, but the gesture brought a sharp twinge of pain from her shoulder, and she gave it up. “I have more free time today than I expected. I was wondering if I could stop by the house again so you can show me…whatever you were about to show me last time.”

  Bianca paused long enough to make her hesitation perfectly clear. “I have a meeting at four-thirty, but that should only run for about an hour. Plan to be here at five-thirty, and I’ll make sure I’m available the rest of the night.”

  I don’t need the rest of the night. She already knows that.

  “Sounds good, Mom. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you then.” Bianca Summerlin wasn’t one for small talk unless she knew it would lead to something she wanted.

  Cheyenne dropped her phone on the passenger seat. “Brief and to the point. That’s definitely where I get it from.”

  Still, the drow halfling couldn’t imagine Bianca would get into bed with a man who didn’t hold at least some of those same values too.<
br />
  * * *

  She got to her apartment before 4:00 p.m., and when she saw the time on the clock over the stove, she puffed out a sigh. “Awesome. Missed another training session with Mattie. The Nightstalker.”

  That word felt strange on her lips, but it was a new piece of information about her Advanced Algorithms professor, and that was something. She wouldn’t use it against the woman, of course, unless she had a reason to—and right now, the only thing she needed from Mattie was for her to stop freaking out.

  Cheyenne slumped into her computer chair behind her desk and drafted an email to her professor-turned-magical mentor.

  I had stuff come up today and couldn’t make it to your office hours. Obviously. Wanted to check in and let you know I’m fine, and I’ll be there tomorrow.

  Cheyenne

  She sent it and turned her monitor off, not bothering to log into the dark web to check the Borderlands forum. That thought made her stop, and she dropped her hand into her lap. “Third Quarter Projections. Q3. The reservation marketplace. Quarters projected over each other by those huge black towers.”

  A laugh of realization bubbled up her throat, and she shook her head. “That’s a brilliant codename. Keeps out anyone who hasn’t been on a magical reservation. I guess that rules out magicals born in the cities and…everyone else. Huh.”

  Feeling better for putting that small puzzle piece together—which didn’t matter much compared to other missing pieces of her life—she stood from the desk chair and headed into the bathroom for a shower.

  I’d never hear the end of it if I showed up at a scheduled meeting looking like this. Even if it’s a meeting with my mom. Especially if it’s with her.

  She stripped off the black tank top with the tattered black satin ribbon and the tight black pants with matching squares checkered across them. She peered at her reflection in the mirror. Turning to the right, she got a good view of her left side, which was covered in soot from her run-in with Q’orr but mostly looked okay. Then she turned to the left and grunted.