The Drow Grew Stronger (Goth Drow Book 4)

by Martha Carr

  “Well, if it isn’t everybody’s favorite Goth drow! What the hell are you doing here?” The door slammed behind the troll woman.

  “Dude, come on.” Yurik stepped out from behind the wheel and shut the driver’s side door a lot more gently. “Every time. Lemme guess, slamming doors was a thing in your house growing up, wasn’t it?”

  Bhandi turned to the ridiculously muscular goblin with the massive bullring through his septum and snorted. “And I bet nagging was a big part of yours.”

  Yurik’s yellow eyes narrowed, then he shook his head. “At least I’m trying to break old habits.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Bhandi waved him off. “Save it for the next time I need to be bored back into sobriety, ‘kay?”

  Cheyenne laughed and looked the troll woman up and down. “Please tell me you weren’t called out of a bar to come out here.”

  “Hell, no.” Bhandi approached the halfling and slapped a hand on Cheyenne’s back. “Any of those assholes try calling me in when I’m off-duty, they’ve got another think comin’. That includes Rhynehart.” She removed her hand when Cheyenne raised her eyebrow. “Yep. No touching the Goth drow. You hear that, fuckers? Hands off!”

  “One of those things only you’d forget, Bhandi.” Tate slipped out of the back passenger seat, the tattoos covering his neck, face, and bald head clearly visible in the low light of dusk. “The rest of us aren’t stupid enough to get anywhere near that close.” He jerked his chin at Cheyenne. “How you doin’?”

  Cheyenne wrinkled her nose. “Not sure how to answer that.”

  “Okay. I bet it’s easier to explain what you’re doing at a tricked-out mansion in the middle of BFE. Better yet, maybe you can explain why we’re here.”

  “Lemme tackle those one at a time, huh?” Cheyenne gestured at the front door at the top of the wide, curving staircase behind her. “This is—”

  The black SUV shifted and wobbled from side to side. The door behind the driver’s seat opened, and the huge ogre Jamal unfolded. He backed away from the car, stared at the massive estate in front of them, and grunted.

  “Hey.” Cheyenne nodded at the agent, who recognized her and responded with another grunt.

  The goblin woman Payton climbed out after him. She slammed the door, making Yurik grimace, and headed around the car to join her fellow agents.

  “Payton.” Cheyenne nodded.

  “Crazy-ass halfling.” Payton tilted her head. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Yeah, I can say the same about you. How long have you guys been up and back on assignment?”

  Payton rolled her good eye. Jamal grunted and shifted the massive black dampening vest draped over his shoulders. “Few weeks.”

  Grinning, Yurik slapped a hand on the ogre’s shoulder, which was even more muscular than his own. “Nothing a little healing juice can’t fix right up. Too bad they couldn’t fix your head, though, huh?”

  Jamal stared at the beefy goblin until Yurik lowered his hand with a shrug. “I’ll say this, halfling,” he muttered, turning his yellow eyes back to Cheyenne. “Next time I hear you screaming to step away from something, that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  “Fuck our orders,” Payton added without any expression.

  “Well, thanks.” Cheyenne gave them each a small smile. “Wish I could say we’re done with boobytraps and explosions, but I honestly can’t promise anything at this point.”

  Bhandi cracked up and shook her head, her scarlet braids flying around her shoulders. “Goddamn boobytraps, man.”

  Tate and Yurik stared at her. When she noticed the warning glances, she shrugged.

  Tate gestured at Jamal and Payton. “Dude, they’re standing right here.”

  The troll woman flipped him the bird. “They’ll laugh about it eventually.”

  Neither of the magical agents who’d been more than severely injured by the Crown loyalists’ exploding bomb-riddled construction site cracked so much as a smile.

  Bhandi snorted and turned back to Cheyenne. “You were about to explain some shit, Goth drow.”

  Cheyenne smiled at the nickname and pointed at the house again. “Bianca Summerlin’s house.”

  Yurik’s eyes widened. “No shit.”

  “Who the hell is that?” Bhandi asked, shooting the muscular troll a surprised frown.

  “Big name in politics. Kinda.”

  “Man, why the fuck are you into human politics?”

  “Hey, when we’re off-duty and runnin’ around town with masks on, you think human politics don’t apply?”

  Bhandi shook her head, looking confused. “I don’t give a shit what humans do.”

  “Well, you should. What’s the point of—”

  “Okay, assholes.” Tate nodded at Cheyenne. “She’s been trying to tell us what’s up for the last five minutes. Let her finish a sentence before you try to kill each other, huh?”

  “Yeah, and about that.” Bhandi pointed at the halfling. “We get a call from Rhynehart to get our asses out here in the middle of nowhere, and nobody else could tell us shit about this assignment. It’s not even in the ASS.”

  “The ASS?” Cheyenne licked a smile off her lips. “Please tell me that’s an acronym like the BITCH.”

  Tate chuckled. “Assignment Safeguard and Surveillance. Cheesy as hell, but we’re not the ones naming shit on base.”

  At least Sir and Rhynehart are keeping this off the record. If loyalists show up at this house too, I’ll know exactly who fucked us over. Sir has to know that too.

  “All right.” Cheyenne gazed at the agents looking at her for an explanation. “Nothing’s in the system ‘cause I asked for you guys personally.”

  “No shit.” Bhandi grinned. “Goth drow’s running her own ops for the FRoE now, huh?”

  “Dude, shut up.” Tate punched the troll in the shoulder.

  “Fair question, asshole.” She punched him right back. Yurik met Cheyenne’s gaze and shook his head.

  “Not exactly.” Cheyenne waited for Tate and Bhandi to give her their full attention again. They’re not half as bad as Byrd and Lumil. At least there’s that. “I wanted you guys up here, off the ASS, ‘cause this is kind of a delicate situation.”

  Yurik smirked. “Delicate’s not in our handbook, Cheyenne.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.” She looked at Jamal and Payton, who watched her intently and didn’t seem anywhere near as interested in why they were here. “Feel free to ask Rhynehart why this whole thing is undocumented. I’m kinda tired of explaining it at this point. Bottom line, I trust you guys, and I’m pretty sure you trust me.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Bhandi.”

  The troll woman nodded at Cheyenne and ignored Tate’s warning stare.

  “And I wanted to be the one to tell you guys what you’re about to step into,” Cheyenne continued. “’Cause this isn’t just a FRoE thing anymore.”

  Tate rubbed his bald and tattooed purple head and frowned. “Then what is it?”

  “Well, it’s kinda personal for me. It’s a drow thing.”

  The agents exchanged confused glances.

  Let’s try this one more time. Cheyenne nodded at the house. “This is my house too.”

  “Ha!” Bhandi snorted. “The halfling’s bringin’ the hammer down, huh?”

  “No, I mean literally. Bianca Summerlin’s my mom.”

  Yurik’s mouth fell open.

  “And L’zar Verdys is sitting out back.”

  “What the fuck?” Tate stepped sideways in a fruitless attempt to peer around the corner of the massive mansion. “Does Rhynehart know?”

  “Oh, yeah. Not that he’s happy about it.”

  “No shit.” Bhandi turned to look at her fellow agents. “And we’re up here to what? Bring him in?”

  “Not even a little. This is bigger than L’zar breaking out of Chateau D’rahl again. Trust me. You’re up here to help him. Help us.”

  “Us as in L’zar and you?” Yurik pointed at the half
ling.

  “And a few other magicals who follow him, yeah.”

  “No fucking wonder this isn’t in the ASS.” Tate shook his head.

  Cheyenne looked at each of the agents and shrugged. “Look. Sir approved it. Rhynehart approved it. Guess I better ask right now if this is gonna be a problem for anyone.”

  “L’zar Verdys is always a problem,” Yurik muttered. “But not you.”

  “Told you we’d follow you anywhere, Cheyenne.” Tate thumped a fist to his chest.

  Bhandi shrugged. “Hey, blood and honor, right?”

  Cheyenne cocked her head. “Where’d you pick that up? Blood and honor.”

  The troll waved her off. “Meh. Just somethin’ I’ve heard the rez refugees toss around once or twice. Sounds pretty badass, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Guess it applies to magicals everywhere, even if they’ve never stepped foot on the other side. Cheyenne looked up at Jamal and Payton. “What about you guys?”

  Jamal grunted. “No exploding crates, and I’m good.”

  “We’re fucking here.” Payton shrugged, her scarred face expressionless beneath the black eyepatch. “There’s your answer.”

  “Cool.” Cheyenne gestured at the side of the house. “Then let’s get going.”

  “Hell, yeah.” Bhandi marched after the halfling, followed closely by the rest of the team hand-picked to handle the weirdness of the whole situation.

  Cheyenne led them down the stone steps. Guess it pays to have friends in the FRoE. At least ones who don’t think I’m full of shit.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  “Holy shit.” Bhandi looked around the manicured lawn behind the estate house. “Not gonna lie to you, Goth drow. For a second, I still thought you were fucking with us.”

  Yurik shook his head and stared at L’zar, who was still sitting cross-legged on the lawn, unmoving and deep in meditation. “Just because you’re always fucking around, it doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

  “Damn, Cheyenne.” Tate stared at the portal ridge. “Serious as a fell shot to the head.”

  “Come on.” Cheyenne grinned at them. “Have I ever lied to you guys?”

  The tattooed troll shrugged. “Well, you did tell us your name was Blakely.”

  “Necessary evil, man.” Bhandi blinked. “So is this, apparently.”

  The other FRoE team noticed the new group of agents first, and the already high tension on the lawn thickened. “What the hell is this?”

  “Yeah, nice to see you too, Gruner.” Bhandi snorted. “You look like shit.”

  “You look like a clueless fucking troll.”

  Rhynehart shot Cheyenne a wary glance, then stalked toward his frayed, nervous, exhausted team. “New team to relieve you guys.”

  “What?” An orc with a thin strip of yellow hair down the center of his head scowled at Rhynehart. “What the hell for?”

  “Didn’t I say to relieve you?” Rhynehart stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded at the agents, who obviously didn’t want to be here but were offended by being replaced. “You’ve done good work, and you’ve been up here long enough. Time to take a break and get the hell outta here.”

  The orc’s scowl moved from his team leader to the agents walking across the lawn with Cheyenne.

  “Hey!” Rhynehart shouted. “That was an order, people. Move.”

  Grumbling, the old team gathered their gear, slinging the straps of their duffel bags over their shoulders before heading out in a loose group toward the house and their car parked at the top of the hill. The new agents Cheyenne had asked for barely noticed the odd glances and frowns the other operatives shot their way.

  Yurik had stopped to stare at L’zar’s back across the lawn. Tate gaped at Corian and Maleshi, who stood side by side and watched the change of shift impassively. Bhandi scanned the portal ridge, cocked her head at the sight of Bianca standing rigidly in front of the jutting black stones tearing across the lawn, then turned her attention to Persh’al. “Who are you?”

  The rebel troll glanced at Cheyenne and Bhandi and shrugged. “Who are you?”

  She slapped the front of her dampening vest. “The gear and the human shouting orders over there didn’t give it away?”

  “Not really an answer.”

  Bhandi scoffed. “You know what? I don’t need to explain myself to a fucking blueberry. What the hell happened to make you turn that color, huh?”

  “Hey!” Lumil stalked toward them, her yellow eyes blazing in the near-darkness. “If anyone’s gonna call this blue troll a blueberry, it’s gonna be me.”

  Persh’al raised an eyebrow at Lumil and stepped aside. “Didn’t know you cared so much.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” The goblin woman stopped inches from Bhandi, who didn’t move an inch as she eyed Lumil. “But then you showed up. What the hell is this, anyway?”

  “You tell me.” Bhandi cocked her head and stared at the thick scar encircling Lumil’s throat. “Nice necklace.”

  “Yeah. Fucking rope burn. You should try it sometime.”

  Cheyenne frowned as she watched both sides of her life as a halfling converge in her mom’s backyard. Corian approached her with his arms folded. “You trust them to handle this?”

  “Yeah.” She frowned. “Maybe I should’ve set up a meeting or something first, huh?”

  “They’ll either get it together, or they won’t. Same goes for us.”

  “Holy shit.” Byrd stared at Yurik. “There some kinda goblin steroids I don’t know about?”

  “How should I know?”

  “How should you?” Byrd scoffed and rubbed his head. “Lumil. Would you look at the size of that motherfucker?”

  For once, the woman didn’t reply with a snappy insult. She and Bhandi were too busy sizing each other up.

  “Keep staring at me like that,” Bhandi muttered, “and this is the last face you’re gonna see.”

  “Wanna bet?” The spinning red runes erupted round Lumil’s fists.

  Bhandi smirked. “I like bets.”

  “Jesus.” Cheyenne ran a hand through her hair. “I thought this was a good idea.”

  “Like I said, they’ll figure it out.” Corian cast Jamal and Payton a sidelong glance as they stalked wordlessly toward the area where the previous FRoE team had set up their temporary camp. “Looks like those already have.”

  Rhynehart walked toward them with a scowl, gazing at Corian before stopping on the other side of Cheyenne. “So, now what?”

  She folded her arms and shrugged. “We let them sniff each other’s butts and figure out who’s gonna roll over and who’s not ready to play nice. Right?”

  “First time I’ve heard anyone compare my agents to dogs.”

  Corian focused his gaze on the portal ridge. “At least it’s not a comparison to cats.”

  Rhynehart snorted. “Bet you get comments like that all the time, huh, nightstalker?”

  Corian’s silver eyes flicked to the agent but didn’t quite land on Rhynehart’s face. “Careful, human. You’re outnumbered.”

  “You think that scares me?”

  Corian glanced at Cheyenne, then walked away to rejoin Maleshi. The general watched the meetup with a small, amused smile and didn’t say a word.

  “Some friends,” Rhynehart muttered.

  “They could say the same about all of you.” Cheyenne cocked her head. “Already looks like an improvement.”

  “Aside from that atomic goblin over there.” He nodded at the standoff between Bhandi and Lumil. The troll agent hadn’t summoned her magic, and so far, Lumil’s spinning runes were for show.

  Cheyenne shook her head. “They said this assignment wasn’t in the system.”

  “That was the plan, right?”

  “Yeah. And I told them you’d explain why.”

  Rhynehart scoffed. “Great.”

  “Hey, that’s your job. I guess I’m the mediator now or something.”

  “Well, as long as that psycho drow playing Buddhist monk over there doesn’t l
ose his shit on my agents, we’re here.”

  Cheyenne turned slowly to look at him. “You know I can’t make any promises.”

  “I’m not asking you to.”

  She heard the doors of the other FRoE SUVs slam shut, then engines started, and the vehicles carrying the old team crunched down the gravel drive to leave the Summerlin estate, hopefully forever. “This is gonna be a weird night.”

  “We already knew that.” Rhynehart watched Jamal and Payton set up their version of a temporary camp beside the Border portal. “I wanna know how the hell you pulled apart a fell pistol like that, Cheyenne. I don’t care if you’re the only one who can use it. You might not be.”

  “Trust me, if none of L’zar’s friends from the other side could get it to work, your magicals sure as shit won’t be able to.”

  “Not now. But what about that program running those war machines?”

  “What?” Cheyenne frowned at him.

  “If it’s already been done, halfling, it can be done again, right? Think about it.” Rhynehart marched off toward Jamal and Payton without another word.

  Cheyenne stared after him. There was an idea—use Matthew Thomas’ program to get working activators Earthside. Whether or not she was taking on this whole ‘drow royalty on Earth’ thing, there was still a lot of work to be done here. Not like magicals running around all over Earth with activator-synced magic wouldn’t be an adjustment for everyone, especially if humans weren’t supposed to know about it.

  She looked at her mom’s rigid form and grimaced. First things first. Get Mom out of this curse, then throw Ba’rael off the throne and finally finish this thing. Then I can work on improvements here. Jesus, I can’t believe I’m considering it.

  “Keep running your mouth, dae’bruj,” Lumil shouted.

  Bhandi spread her arms. “You know someone’s insane when they start yelling gibberish at you.”

  “It’s fucking O’gúleesh, you Earthside moron!” Lumil pounded one fist into the other palm in a flash of red sparks and spinning runes. “Sounds like someone needs to teach you a lesson.”