Once Upon A Midnight Drow (Goth Drow Book 1)

by Martha Carr

  Cheyenne frowned. “How do you know—”

  “Okay, there might not be a whole lot of drow over here. Or maybe any, for that matter. I’ve never seen one. But it’s pretty common knowledge that drow are ridiculously strong. Plus, I’ve seen you Hulk out once or twice.”

  The halfling laughed. “’Hulk out?’ When?”

  “Like that time I asked you to help me move the couch to the other side of my living room. You thought I wasn’t looking.” Ember shrugged. “But I saw you from the bathroom. In case you haven’t realized it, most chicks who can’t be a millimeter over five-foot-six don’t pick up entire couches by themselves.”

  “Huh. You were spying on me.”

  Ember released another strangled laugh. “Guilty.”

  Cheyenne raised an eyebrow. “I think you’re missing the point.”

  Her friend mimed zipping her mouth shut and nodded.

  “Thanks. In case you haven’t put two and two together since now you know how you got to the hospital,” the half-drow cleared her throat again. “I followed you to the park that night. And I saw and heard everything. Including who shot you.”

  Ember gave her a bitter smile. “Did you get him?”

  Cheyenne shook her head until she found her voice again. “I will. I’m working on it, and I’ll make sure he knows how bad he screwed up.”

  The young women stared at each other, then Ember sniffed and nodded once. “Good. Let me know when you do. And thanks in advance.”

  That brought a little smile to Cheyenne’s lips, but it faded again. “Don’t thank me yet. I still have to find the fucker.”

  Ember barked a laugh and winced when it moved too forcefully through her. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Okay, listen.” When she was sure she had her friend’s attention, Cheyenne reached for Ember’s hand. The other woman didn’t hesitate to give the drow halfling’s fingers a little squeeze of encouragement. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around when you woke up. That’s mixed into the first apology because I got caught up in something that kept me away. I think it’s gonna help me in the long run with finding Durg and with…doing what I should have started a long time ago.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’m not backing down from a fight again, Em. Ever.” Cheyenne raised her eyebrows and swallowed. “I’ve been keeping my head down way too long without embracing who I am and what I can do. You were right. People like us need to stick together.”

  “’People like us?’”

  The drow halfling frowned in confusion. “Yeah. That’s what you said at Gnarly’s before everything else happened. You already know what I am, so I’m kind of assuming at this point you and I are the same. I mean, without the drow part.”

  Ember blinked, and her hand went limp in Cheyenne’s. “You think I’m a halfling?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Not technically.”

  A nervous laugh vacated the half-drow’s mouth. “Okay, see, I hadn’t heard the word ‘halfling’ before you threw it around at the bar. And I thought I was starting to get a handle on things. Now I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah.” Ember clicked her tongue against her teeth and slowly slid her hand out of Cheyenne’s. “Will you shut the door all the way? I, uh, I should explain some things to you. I mean, I owe you at this point.”

  “Sure.” Cheyenne nodded and climbed out of the chair to go shut the door.

  I have no idea what she’s about to tell me. Whatever it is, she doesn’t look happy.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  As Cheyenne returned to her seat, Ember sucked down the last of the water in her cup, filling the room with the burbling sound of a mostly empty straw. She sighed, swallowed, and set the cup on the tray while Cheyenne crossed her legs beneath her and got ready to hear the whole story.

  “Okay, when I said, ‘people like us,’ I wasn’t talking about halflings. I thought halflings were a myth before I met you.”

  Cheyenne leaned forward. “What about that Trevor guy?”

  “Yeah, well, I found him after you and I became friends. I don’t know him all that well. A couple months hanging out with him and the other halflings he knows, so it was eye-opening for me that way.”

  At least she’s not feeling a massive betrayal after they chickened out and left her in a pool of her own blood. Cheyenne nodded. “Okay. What did you mean then?”

  “I meant those of us who are…different.” Ember rolled her eyes with a dry laugh. “And I don’t mean magicals versus humans. Those differences are way obvious.”

  “Most of the time.”

  Ember raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  Cheyenne passed her finger back and forth over the silver ring in her bottom lip. “I might have met somebody who’s a full-blooded…something. I don’t know what she is, and she wouldn’t tell me. But she looks human. All the time.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. It’s an illusion spell.” Cheyenne spread her arms with an exaggerated look of surprise. “Who knew?”

  “Huh. Yeah.” Ember pulled the thin hospital sheets up and played with the folds in the fuzzy outer blanket. “I guess you know more about magicals out in the open than you did a week ago, huh?”

  “Pretty safe assumption, yeah.” Cheyenne nodded and smiled at that.

  I can tell her all about it later when she has less to worry about.

  “Okay. That’s a good thing, by the way. For you.”

  “I know.”

  “Good. So, there are magicals—the full-blooded kind—and there are halflings. Obviously. And there are probably a whole bunch of other combinations in between. I don’t know. But I’m neither.”

  “Um…” Cheyenne cocked her head. “The other option I know of is human.”

  “Nope. Definitely not that.” Ember clenched her eyes shut. “I mean, I pass as human much of the time. My parents are fae.”

  The drow halfling’s eyes widened. A laugh of surprise built in Cheyenne’s throat. She coughed instead. “Excuse me. I heard you say ‘fae?’”

  “Yep. Not a whole bunch of fae on this side. Not that I’ve heard of. The fae I do know over here are family. My parents are third-generation immigrants, and fae don’t have a lot of kids. Kinda like drow that way.” Ember offered a hesitant frown, and Cheyenne nodded.

  “No questions yet.”

  “Right. So, that makes me full-blooded fae with, like, five-percent magic. The rest of me looks and acts and smells like a human.”

  “Okay, one question.”

  “Go for it.”

  Cheyenne cocked her head. “Does that happen a lot?”

  “Nope.” The fae-not-fae smoothed her hair, glanced at the ends of it in her fingertips, and made a face. “The showers here are not awesome. Anyway, no. It doesn’t happen a lot. The best we could figure is that being here for so long, on this side of the Border, has sort of diluted the magic gene. At least, that’s what my dad’s sticking to. Who knows what’s going on?”

  “And the rest of your family?”

  Ember took a sharp breath and let her mouth hang open for a second before trying to answer. “Yeah, the rest of my family thinks they’re all better off if they ignore I was born. My dad’s still in Chicago. Well, sort of Chicago. He’s on Res 61. And my mom is…somewhere else. When she found out the inherent magic I have is enough to keep me alive, she didn’t want anything to do with me, so, she left. Maybe she’s on another reservation. Maybe she’s picked up one of those illusion spells you were talking about. Who knows?”

  “Wow.” Cheyenne swallowed and leaned forward over her crossed legs. “That sucks.”

  “Hey, it is what it is, right? Everybody’s got issues.”

  “Magical families, too.” The half-drow sighed. “I have no idea who my dad is. The person who made me what I am is out there somewhere, doing who knows what. My mom doesn’t even know his name.”

  “Ouch. Does she talk about it, or…”

  “We g
ot together a couple days ago to spill what few beans there were.” Cheyenne tilted her head in consideration. “There’s more she has to tell me. I got kinda busy. I mean, it sounds like the guy gave her a fake name, and that was it.”

  “You know what?” Ember grinned when the halfling glanced at her. “I think our sob stories are pretty evenly matched.”

  Cheyenne let out a reluctant chuckle. “Sounds like it. But it makes sense, you saying we have to stick together. That’s the point I’m trying to make, Em. I’m always on your side.”

  “Excellent.” Ember wiggled her eyebrows. “I could go for some pizza rolls right now.”

  “You want me to sneak microwaved pizza rolls into your hospital room?”

  “Why not? Stick them in some Gladware beneath a shirt and a new pair of pants. Bring ‘em in with my phone charger.”

  Cheyenne laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, okay. That’s not on the list of preapproved meals when you’re sitting in a hospital bed, but I did tell you I’m on your side.”

  “You did.” Ember wrinkled her nose. “Can’t back out now.”

  “Sure can’t. Hey, thanks for telling me all that. It’s kinda weird, right? We’ve been friends all this time, and it took you getting shot and me making some interesting frenemies before we had a heart-to-heart.” Cheyenne stood from the chair and patted Ember’s keys in her pocket. “I’ll be back in a little bit with the requested items.”

  She wrapped Ember in another hug, and her friend stopped Cheyenne with a sharp grip on her upper arm. Cheyenne pulled away a little with a frown. “You okay?”

  “What kinda frenemies?”

  “Oh. I’ll tell you about that. It’s a complicated story, and I’m still figuring out how to juggle the pieces.”

  “Okay.” Ember released her clasp on Cheyenne’s arm and sat back against the raised bed. “Don’t get into too much trouble. I kinda like having you around.”

  “Don’t worry.” Cheyenne rubbed the back of Ember’s shoulder, then gave her friend two thumbs-up. “The halfling’s got it covered.”

  Ember scoffed. “The halfling’s weird. I like her better when she doesn’t refer to herself in the third person.”

  “Yeah, me too. She’ll be back in an hour, okay?”

  “Yep.”

  Cheyenne opened the room’s door and slipped into the hallway. The half-drow stopped outside the room and peeked back inside. Her friend’s smile disappeared as soon as Cheyenne was out of sight, and Ember sank her head into the pillows and turned her face away toward the window.

  I know you didn’t ask, Em, but there’s a lot more I can do to help than microwave you some pizza rolls. I’ll make sure you get what you need.

  Cheyenne headed through the hospital’s recovery wing, feeling tired and ready to go home and do absolutely nothing. But she’d promised her best friend—who also happened to be full-blooded fae with almost no fae magic—that she’d get these small favors done.

  Sometimes small favors are all we can do. But I’m not backing down from the big ones either.

  Cheyenne couldn’t change the past, but she knew she could do a lot to keep things headed the way she wanted them. To keep them headed in the right direction, where nobody got hurt because she couldn’t pull herself out of her blind rejection of who she was.

  I just need more answers.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  After stopping at Ember’s apartment and grabbing everything she’d promised—phone charger, change of clothes, and yes, pizza rolls—Cheyenne was back at the hospital an hour later, in time to slip in at the end of visiting hours.

  Hopefully, the nurses don’t go walking around checking on every room once those hours are up.

  She made a beeline for Ember’s room, the smell of fried dough and processed pizza sauce wafting from the tote bag she’d pulled from her friend’s closet. This time, though, when she knocked on the door before opening it with a cheeseball grin, she found someone else in the room with Ember. Two someone elses, both in uniform.

  Crap.

  “Hello.” The Richmond PD officer standing in the center of Ember’s hospital room nodded at Cheyenne and waved her inside. “Come on in. We were following up with Ms. Gaderow about her incident last week, which I’m sure you already know all about. What’s in the bag?”

  The woman’s tone was friendly, but Cheyenne knew prodding conversation when she heard it.

  “Clothes, phone charger, snacks.”

  “Smells good.”

  Cheyenne took a chance in crossing the room to hand the tote over to Ember, who took it with an apologetic smile and a nod. “Anything else I can get you?”

  “I’m good.” Ember stuck her face into the bag and inhaled. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I wanted.”

  “Sorry. We haven’t introduced ourselves.” The officer extended her hand toward the drow halfling. “Officer Rawley. This is my partner Officer McMathers. What’s your name?”

  “Cheyenne.” The halfling shook the officer’s hand and wasn’t about to offer her last name unless someone asked for it.

  “You have a last name, Cheyenne?”

  Of course, she had to ask. “Summerlin.”

  Rawley’s thin eyebrows visibly rose, and she turned toward her partner, who was leaning against the windowsill on the other side of the room. The man met her gaze and cocked his head.

  Everyone and their mother knows Bianca Summerlin, and everybody’s always surprised she has a daughter.

  Officer Rawley nodded. “Nice to meet you. Listen, Cheyenne, my partner and I are trying to get a clear picture of what happened last Tuesday night at around eleven o’clock.”

  “When Ember got shot.” Cheyenne raised her eyebrows.

  The officer offered a quick, tight-lipped smile. “It’s part of the process. Every time someone comes into the ER with a gunshot wound, we follow up. What were you doing that night?”

  Cheyenne glanced at Ember, who was still apologizing with her eyes. I managed to avoid the cops for a whole week. Might as well face the music now. She stuck her hands in her pockets. “Ember and I went out for drinks at Gnarly’s on East Clay Street—”

  “And I told them about the phone call from Trevor,” Ember put in.

  Rawley turned to look at the woman sitting up in the hospital bed and nodded. “Ember told us as much as she could, Cheyenne, but for obvious reasons, she can’t remember the key points. She did tell us that you were the one who brought her into the ER, so we’d like to hear your side of the story.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  That makes things easier. For the most part. I can keep the magical details out of it.

  “You know what?” McMathers pushed himself away from the windowsill and headed toward the door. “Why don’t we step out into the hall? I think visiting hours are about up right now, and I’m sure your friend could get some sleep.”

  Ember let out a wry laugh. “I was asleep for a week.”

  “Which goes to show how intense the healing process is. We won’t keep you.” The officer nodded, then gestured for Rawley and Cheyenne to join him on his way out the door. “Hope you get some rest, Ms. Gaderow.”

  Ember scratched the side of her head and laid back against the raised mattress. Cheyenne met her gaze and gave her friend a reassuring nod. “Don’t let the pizza rolls get cold, okay?”

  She walked into the hall with the officers.

  McMathers nodded at the closed door to Ember’s room and folded his arms. “How did you end up at the park in time to save your friend’s life?”

  “Like I said, we were at the bar together. She got a phone call and said something came up and she had to go. She left quickly, so I didn’t hear anything else about it. But she sounded kinda worried.”

  “Worried?” Officer Rawley cocked her head. “How so?”

  “I heard her tell whoever was on the phone not to do anything stupid and to wait until she showed up.”

  “Do you know who she was talking to?”

  �
�No.”

  “Okay.” Rawley glanced at her partner, then added, “So she left Gnarly’s after the call. Then what happened?”

  “I followed her.”

  “You followed your friend?”

  “Yep. She sounded worried, and I was curious. I should’ve told her I was coming with her, I know. But if I had, maybe I would’ve gotten shot too.”

  McMathers squinted, one of his eyes nearly closed, and scanned Cheyenne from her dyed black hair to her black vans. “You sneak around after people a lot?”

  Cheyenne shrugged. “The people I care about.”

  Rawley shot her partner an irritated glance and leaned forward. “Did you see anything we might be able to use to find the person who shot Ember?”

  “No. It was dark. She met up with the other people, and I think they were having an argument.”

  “You think?”

  Cheyenne nodded and forced herself not to mouth off.

  You’re okay. Ember told them the story minus the magic. That’s all you need to do.

  “Yeah. I was too far away to hear any real words, but they were definitely arguing.”

  “Was this before or after Ember joined them?” Rawley asked.

  Smart question. “They were already arguing before she got there. Kept arguing when Ember showed up.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “More arguing. Then I heard gunshots.”

  “How many, would you say?”

  Cheyenne shrugged. “Two, maybe three. I saw someone drop, and then the rest ran off. Nobody stopped to help the person who got shot, so I went closer and saw it was Ember.”

  “Did anyone else—”

  “And that’s when you picked her up,” McMathers cut in. His partner shot him another irritated glance, but the guy was squinting so hard at Cheyenne that if he noticed Rawley’s look, he ignored it.

  “Yeah.” Cheyenne glanced at the door to Ember’s hospital room. “I picked her up and carried her to the hospital.” And this is where things are gonna get dicey.

  “Huh.” McMathers glanced at his partner and raised an eyebrow. “How tall are you, Cheyenne?”