by Martha Carr
“Colonel Les Thomas will receive a fair, private trial, and we will take disciplinary action proportionate to his crimes. Any and all questions or concerns you may have regarding these events may be directed to Ms. Helen Holder in writing, and we will provide whatever further information possible as time allows. Now.” Van Lurig gestured with a sweeping arm at Sir. “Major Carson has additional items to address.”
Sir had barely managed to fumble around with the Bluetooth headset Helen had given him, but he froze when the major general mentioned his name. Helen leaned toward the man, and the awestruck silence in the common room made it only too easy to hear her low mutter. “You have to turn it on, Major.”
“How the hell do I do that?” Sir grumbled, ripping the headset off his ear to turn the thing over.
Helen pressed the headset’s power button, shot him a judgmental look, then nodded. “You’re live.”
“Still? Shit.” The amplified rustle and thump of him trying to jerk the headset back onto his ear crackled across the sound system, then he stepped forward to where Van Lurig had been standing and cleared his throat.
“Major General Van Lurig is a lot better at these damn things than I am. I’ll be quick about it. We’re making some changes around here, in case you didn’t figure that out on your own already, which you should have if you’ve been paying attention. Protocol updates will roll out on an ongoing basis, but two things are happening right now.” He glanced quickly at Van Lurig, who nodded curtly. Then he pulled a crumpled index card out of his pocket and scowled at it. “I guess I’m the one to bring ‘em up. First, effective immediately, Captain Rhynehart is reinstated and will report for active duty in his previous role as a field operative and team leader, with recognition for his service to this organization despite having been relieved by Colonel Thomas.”
Sir turned to look at Rhynehart this time, who stood with his arms folded and stared blankly at the major. “Yeah, we’ll talk about what that means for you when the whole goddamn world isn’t watching.”
A few subdued sniggers rose from the agents gathered in the common room. Van Lurig closed her eyes and slowly shook her head.
“What are you laughing at? None of you has the cajones to fight off a robot snake and take a bullet in the shoulder, okay? Take a lesson from this guy and shut the hell up.” Clearing his throat again, Sir glanced one more time at the index card. One eye twitched, and his mustache bristled before a low, disapproving growl escaped him. “And finally, Cheyenne Summerlin will officially join the FRoE as a consultant to the Board of Directors, also effective immediately. You’re dismissed.”
“What the fuck?” Cheyenne’s mouth slowly dropped open.
“Well, look at that.” Yurik looked her up and down and chuckled. “Now you do work here.”
“No, I don’t.” Gritting her teeth, she glared at the line of board members, Sir, and Rhynehart all standing up there in front of the entire organization. Not a single one of them looked at her. These assholes just assumed I’d be down with this?
Sir jerked the headset off his ear and turned to face the board members. “I don’t know what the fuck to do with this thing. Here. Just take it.”
The sound system crackled noisily again when he slapped the headset into Helen’s open palm. Then he stalked to the hallway leading into the lobby and disappeared. Helen turned off his headset, and Van Lurig stepped forward again. “That concludes this announcement. Thank you all for your time.”
The speakers clicked one final time when she turned off her headset and removed it, then Helen deactivated the broadcast with quick, efficient taps on the tablet. The board members filed out of the room, their footsteps echoing in the tensely silent common room. The second they disappeared down the short hallway, the room exploded in dozens of heated conversations.
“Check you out, Goth drow.” Bhandi folded her arms and grinned at Cheyenne. “Consultant to the Board of Directors. No fucking shit. How much they payin’ you for that?”
“They’re not.” Cheyenne tried to slip past the troll woman, but Yurik leaned in front of her with a confused smile.
“Come on, Cheyenne. You can’t expect us to believe you’re gonna keep doing this for free. You got a major promotion.”
“They can’t promote me if I never agreed to it.” She cocked her head at him with a warning look. “I need to go set some things straight now. Again. Do you mind?”
“Whoa, yeah. Sure.” Yurik raised his hands and straightened out of her way. Chuckling, he turned to face her as she headed toward the hallway. “Congratulations, by the way.”
Tate rolled his eyes. “You don’t congratulate someone for something they don’t want, man.”
“Nah. She wants it. You just can’t tell.”
“Man.” Bhandi barked a laugh. “We took her drinkin’ for the first time in Peridosh, and now she outranks all you fuckers.”
“Yeah, and you.”
“You think I don’t know that? Come on. I put two hundred bucks down on this whole assembly being about Colonel Assface and his fuckup. I need to collect my winnings.”
“Hold on.” Tate set a hand on the troll woman’s shoulder and nodded at the hallway into the lobby. “We might have a problem.”
Chapter Sixty-Three
Cheyenne was so busy fuming about the board’s curveball, she didn’t see the massive ogre Grot and the half dozen other agents shoving their way over to her until the guy’s gigantic shadow passed over her. Grot stepped in front of her and growled. “I told you to watch yourself, drow.”
She glared up at him. “Yeah, I get told a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I have to listen.”
When she tried to step around him, Grot nudged her shoulder with the tips of his meaty fingers. Cheyenne shouted in pain, her wounded shoulder flaring with agony as she stumbled backward. One of Grot’s disgruntled fellow agents sniggered behind her and shoved her forward again with both hands. “You’re not going anywhere, you fucking—”
Cheyenne spun and threw a vicious right hook into the squat goblin’s jaw. His head whipped sideways. “Fuck you!”
“That’s how you like to play, huh?” Grot folded his arms. “Looks like someone’s a little touchy.”
Seething, Cheyenne gritted her teeth against the dizzying pain in both her shoulders and summoned a crackling orb of black-and-purple energy in her hand. The pissed-off agents backed away, and she glared at the ogre. “I don’t like being touched. Period. Now get out of my way.”
“I heard you like magicals getting in your way.” The goblin woman beside Grot with a small burn scar on her cheek sneered and tilted her head from side to side to stretch out her neck and shoulders. Her spine popped with each movement. “That’s why you’re here, right? Fucking drow halfling can’t get in with her own kind on the other side, so you’re gonna try playing badass ruler in our house.”
So much for drow royalty on Earth. Cheyenne shook her head. “You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get away from this. I don’t give a shit about ruling anything.”
“Major General says otherwise.” Grot slammed a fist into his other palm. “But what does a human know, huh? Why don’t we show her who you really are?”
“Good fucking luck.” Cheyenne tried to muscle past the huge magical again, and when he reached for her arm, she launched her crackling black orb into his foot.
Grot roared. “Drow bitch.”
“What the fuck are you doin’, huh?” Bhandi pushed her way through the spectating agents, shaking her head. “You wanna get picked up by the MPs too?”
“I wanna bury this little snake is what I want.” Grot glared at Cheyenne.
“You’re not thinking this through, man,” Yurik added as he and Tate joined the paused brawl. “And you’re an idiot if you think Cheyenne wants to turn our shit inside-out. You touch her, you’re breaking rank.”
“She doesn’t have any rank,” the goblin woman snarled.
Bhandi rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Malfi. This gia
nt shit-for-brains has an excuse. He’s an ogre. But you’re even dumber than him.”
“You can’t touch her, man,” Tate added. “You think they’ll let that slide? She’s basically on the fucking board.”
Cheyenne glared at the tattooed troll, who gave her a discrete wink and nodded.
“Bullshit.” Grot glared at the three other agents coming to the drow’s defense, his eyes narrowing to glowing yellow slits. “Show me a contract, and maybe I’ll listen.”
Yeah, that would be the place to start, wouldn’t it?
“Fine.” Yurik raised his hands and shrugged. “You wanna give it a try? That’s your call. But you’ll have to go through us first. Might not play out the way you want, right?”
“Oh, yeah. ‘Cause of all that nerve damage, right?” Bhandi exaggerated a thoughtful frown. “Hurts real bad still, doesn’t it? Huh. Now, where was it exactly you got that electrical spear tip shoved through your nasty-ass skin?”
Malfi shouted in surprise when she was shoved aside, then Jamal stomped to Grot, expressionless. “Right here.”
He slapped a hand down on Grot’s pectoral muscle and grabbed a handful of the other ogre’s boil-covered flesh beneath the standard-issue black t-shirt. Grot bellowed and tried to jerk away, but Jamal’s other fist crashed into the side of the huge ogre’s head. The agents who’d gathered to watch stepped back, some shouting encouragement but most of them watching quietly. Cheyenne caught half of them grinning at the display, and the other half shot her hateful grimaces without bothering to hide it.
Grot dropped to his knees with Jamal’s hand still gripping his chest. “Stop.”
Bhandi threw her head back for an exaggerated laugh and slapped Yurik’s back. “Puts a whole new spin on titty-twister, doesn’t it?”
Yurik rolled his eyes but chuckled anyway.
“Jamal, you fuck!” Grot roared again, breathing so heavily under the pain that thick wads of spit flew from between his lips. Half of them dangled beneath his chin.
Jamal wrenched his hand away, then smacked the back of the other ogre’s bald head for good measure. “Quit fuckin’ around.”
Then he stepped aside, looked at Cheyenne, and gestured at the now-clear path into the hall.
“Thanks.” She nodded at him and stormed toward the hall, ignoring the heaving ogre on his knees and all the FRoE agents’ gazes burning holes into the back of her head. I didn’t ask for this, and I sure as shit don’t need it right now.
“See ya, Cheyenne,” Tate called after her.
“Yeah, a lot more now, huh?” Bhandi added. “Goth drow’s here to fucking stay!”
“Dial it down, huh?”
“Why? It’s true. Hey!” Bhandi’s voice followed Cheyenne down the short hallway. “You keep your hands to yourself, ogre. Got it? Now everyone on base knows how to bring down your giant fuckin’ ass.”
Cheyenne blocked out the other conversations rising behind her and hurried into the lobby. Maybe I can catch them at the elevator.
She slowed when she found the general major and Helen standing on the opposite side of the lobby, their heads dipped to each other as they stared at the tablet in Helen’s hands and discussed whatever the hell was on that screen.
“Major General.” Cheyenne cleared her throat and unconsciously gripped her bicep below her screaming shoulder. “We need to talk.”
Van Lurig turned and glared at the grimacing drow stalking toward her. “I didn’t take you as the type to file complaints against our operatives, Cheyenne, but is that something you need to do?”
“File a complaint? No.” Cheyenne shook her head. “I couldn’t care less about that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
The drow stopped four feet away from the major general and tried to catch her breath. The room spun a little around her, and she swallowed. I need to sit down. “The problem is your little announcement back there.”
“Really? I think it went rather well.” Van Lurig nodded at her secretary. “Take that up to my office, Helen. Thank you.”
“Sure. It went well. Until that last part, when you said I’m your new consultant.”
“We discussed this during our meeting, Cheyenne.”
“No, we definitely didn’t. You asked for my opinion, and I told you. I didn’t agree to work for you.”
“I like to think of it as more of a partnership.”
“Which you’ve obviously never done before. A partner would ask the other partner if they even wanted the gig.”
Van Lurig blinked slowly. “You brought up some crucial points in our meeting. Am I to believe now that your passion for the changes we fully intend to make in this organization was not genuine?”
“No.” Cheyenne clenched her eyes shut. “No, those are all things you need to do.”
“And we need your insight to help us accomplish that.” The woman clasped her hands behind her back and eyed the drow. “You’re in a unique position, Cheyenne. You understand both worlds, maybe even more than the rest of us understand.”
“Well, yeah.”
“And from what I’ve heard, you’re more than capable of leading a new phase within this organization. I don’t see any reason why you wouldn’t take full advantage of this offer.”
“I can take advantage of it, sure. As long as you don’t keep roping me into something without talking to me about it first.” Cheyenne tried to shake the dizziness out of her head, but that only made it worse. “And it’ll have to wait. I have other things that are a lot more important than this FRoE overhaul right now.”
“Really?” Van Lurig raised her eyebrows. “Like what?”
Cheyenne grimaced. “I can’t tell you.”
“Hmm. Well then, I suggest you get your priorities in order over the next few days. We want you back here at seventeen-hundred hours this Monday to work on implementing these changes. And try to get some rest.” The general major looked her over. “You don’t look well.”
Cheyenne blinked at her, and the woman spun smartly on her heel to march to the opposite hallway. Van Lurig glanced at her watch and disappeared around the corner.
Get my priorities in order. Shit. She knows I can’t walk away from this. And now I have less than a week to suck the blight out of Ambar’ogúl and save Bianca before I have to play FRoE consultant.
Turning quickly, she staggered to the front doors and had to stop to collect herself. Just pull it together and get home, Cheyenne. You’ll figure out the rest of it.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Ember jolted when a hard thump came from the front door. A second later, the door burst open, and Cheyenne stumbled into their apartment. “Oh, shit.”
“I’m fine.” The door slammed shut, and Cheyenne made her way in a hunched-over crouch to the kitchen.
“No, you’re not.” The fae floated off the couch in a flash of purple light and headed after her friend. “Cheyenne, seriously. You can’t keep ignoring this. Look at you.”
Without stopping to argue, Cheyenne nearly fell over against the kitchen counter before she jerked open the cabinet above the sink and pulled down a glass. Water sprayed crazily from the faucet when she turned it on too hard, but she didn’t care. Why the fuck am I so thirsty?
“You need to take that potion.”
“Nope.” Cheyenne lifted the overflowing glass to her lips and guzzled the whole thing. Then she stuck it under the faucet again.
“Yes.” Ember stopped on the other side of the kitchen island and stared at her friend with wide eyes. “You need to take that potion and start using your brain again. Seriously, it’s okay to put the whole stubborn-drow thing on hold for all of five seconds. ‘Cause that’s how long it takes to down a potion. Just take the help where you can get it.”
Cheyenne finished chugging down the second glass of water, then set the glass on the counter with a sharp clink. “Not when I don’t trust the magical trying to help me.”
“So, it’s because you don’t trust the bane-breaker? Fine. Then we�
��ll get a second opinion.”
“I need some rest, Em.” When Cheyenne took her first step away from the counter, her bad hip gave out, and she nearly dropped.
“You know, something tells me you lying down right now like this is just as bad as going to sleep with a concussion. Or worse.”
“Nothing happened to my head.” Cheyenne staggered to the kitchen island and propped herself up there instead.
Shaking her head, Ember pulled out her phone, swiped angrily at the screen, then lifted it to her ear. “Hey. We need you over here. Not good.”
“Who are you calling?” Cheyenne blinked heavily at the countertop, which now floated in and out of four different versions of itself.
“Help. From a magical you do trust.” Ember shoved her phone back into her pocket and reached for her friend’s arms. “Then maybe you’ll listen to someone who isn’t pumped full of magical poison and can think clearly.”
A soft pop came from the living room, then Maleshi stepped through her portal’s dark circle of light, facing the other end of the apartment.
“What happened this time, huh? You stick your fingers in the wrong—” The general turned. When she saw Cheyenne, her eyes widened and her playful smile disappeared. “Holy shit. We need to move now.”
She bolted across the living room in a flash of silver light. “Let’s go, kid.”
Cheyenne shook her head, slumped on the island now. “I’m fine.”
“You’re dying, Cheyenne, and I’m not gonna let that happen.” The general grabbed one of Cheyenne’s arms to drape over her shoulders, and the drow almost dropped in the split second without the extra support.
