Realm of Infinite Night (Goth Drow Unleashed Book 3)

by Martha Carr

  “Well at least let me cover it.” He held out folded sheets of gauze, and Cheyenne approached him just long enough to take the gauze from his hand and the roll of medical tape from the desk.

  “Yeah, good idea. Have a good night.” She lifted the supplies in a hurried salute and marched toward the door.

  “Wait, you can’t just… You have to keep it clean!”

  The halfling waved him off before she disappeared. Dr. Andrews frowned, scratched his head, and turned slowly to look at Ember. “I don’t suppose you know anything about that, huh?”

  She smiled and tilted her head. “About what?”

  He chuckled in disbelief. “Yeah, that’s right. Like it never even happened.”

  Cheyenne made it back to her apartment half an hour later. Her shoulder, now covered with the gauze she’d taped down in her car, felt a million times better already. Or maybe it was just a placebo effect. “Mind over matter, right?”

  She dropped her backpack beside the half-wall of the kitchen counter and headed right for Glen and everything her desktop setup had to offer. The thought of Sir or Rhynehart or some other FRoE operative looking for her on the side of the freeway where she’d tossed the tracking device out her car window made her smile.

  The main monitor of the two on her desk blinked on when she woke it up, and the halfling had something else to smile about. “Bingo. The Bunker is still reigning champion.”

  Her reinforced decryption program had done exactly what it was supposed to do with the massive file gu@rdi@n104 had sent her yesterday. Cheyenne clicked out of the notification alerting her to the finished process and froze.

  “You gotta be kidding me.” She sat in her executive desk chair, rolled it toward her keyboard, and scanned the file the Bunker had taken over twelve hours to unwrap for her.

  It was a whole bunch of nothing. The file didn’t even make sense. On the surface, it looked like a large text of simple CSS code formatting, except for none of the commands were closed off, and what would have been words were just more broken lines of code with no apparent ending. One more layer of encryption, and she didn’t even know where to start breaking this down. Good thing she had friends in hacker places.

  Cheyenne logged on to the Y2Kickass server and pulled up a private message to her old friend Todd.

  ShyHand71: Hey, buddy. I have another favor to ask.

  The halfling sat back and watched for a response. Todd was usually pretty quick about getting back to her. She had a feeling the guy stayed in the server all the time to keep an eye on things after GRND0 kicked the bucket. She was right.

  T-rexifus088L: Okay, you know I love you. But if you’re trying to send me another one of those files that sits around on my network like a grenade with the pin pulled, you can suck it.

  Cheyenne laughed and typed her response.

  ShyHand71: I said sorry for that one, didn’t I?

  T-rexifus088L: Briefly.

  ShyHand71: It’s not anything like that. Somebody who might turn out to be a friend sent me on a little scavenger hunt. It’s stupid, but it’s kind of the only option I have to get what I want. I decrypted the first layer, but there’s something else keeping me out. Code that looks broken but somehow isn’t. Think any of our friends could take a look and tell me what it is? Or at least where to start?

  T-rexifus088L: Weird. Maybe. I can ask. Any particular way you want me to sell it?

  ShyHand71: Just tell them I can pay. With real money. If that makes a difference.

  T-rexifus088L: Real money? What’s that?

  ShyHand71: Haha.

  Cheyenne shook her head. The members of GRND0’s Y2Kickass team hadn’t branched out much since the halfling had come aboard as a new wannabe hacker over six years ago. These people weren’t looking for paid work. They hung around, just like Cheyenne did, in case one of the others pulled something up that looked remotely interesting. Maybe offering to pay someone to decrypt something she hadn’t seen before wasn’t quite enough.

  ShyHand71: And throw in an extra little gift, I guess. Say I’ll owe them one.

  T-rexifus088L: Yeah, that might get somebody to take a look, at least. I’ll let you know if I get any bites.

  ShyHand71: Thanks.

  The chat window closed from his end, and Cheyenne logged out of Y2Kickass to keep that part of her life separate from what she was about to get into next. Sure, she had complete faith in the VPN she’d set up and her tight firewall layers, but there really was no such thing as being too careful on the dark web.

  One more jump through the site titled Third Quarter Projections and onto the Borderlands forum. The hidden site was one giant, virtual hangout for the magicals on this side of the Border trying to find a little bit of solidarity in a world where no one knew they existed. Where no one could know, except for other magicals and the FRoE. There were a ridiculous number of new post topics at the top of the screen, but she ignored them all to find the one and only post she’d made so far—that she was looking for the orc named Durg.

  That was the most important thing on her list right now, especially while Todd talked to their pals about decrypting the rest of gu@rdi@n104’s stupid treasure map. gu@rdi@n104 leaving the very first—and only—comment on her post had definitely scared all the other users away from even trying to talk to her about it. gu@rdi@n104 had staked his claim to the information, apparently, and now the halfling’s only option with that was to play along with the guy’s ridiculous game.

  She skimmed back through the newest topic threads, and the post that caught her attention next made her pause. “Woah.”

  It was titled Someone Needs to Murder That Skaxen, which would have been intriguing enough. But the real kicker with this one was that a new topic started at 1:47 this morning already had over thirty thousand comments. It was titled, What happened here?

  Cheyenne clicked into the thread and started reading.

  Laird4Quad: Okay, guys. So I have it on good authority from a cousin at Rez 38. They bagged one of their trouble residents yesterday. A Skaxen named Q’orr Wakka’an. And this guy, 100%, is the source of all those bloodeater potions and Cthulhu charms making their way through Virginia. They got him.

  PWNpalACE420: Good news if we had any proof. Not sure a cousin at any rez counts as “good authority.”

  MeadLaquer: O’gúl Crown damn the motherfucker! Finally somebody put him away. Thanks for posting this, @Laird4Quad. My sister’s kid got into one of those fell-gotten “truth” potions a few weeks ago. Damn near killed him, and I know he’s one of the lucky ones with that shit. Most kids don’t make it from what I heard. Whoever tagged that Skaxen piece of shit can have a whole barrel of grog on me.

  FreddyKrugerrand1oz: @PWNpalACE420, I heard the same thing from another source inside Rez 38. Heard it was a drow who put this Q’orr guy away, too. Maybe instead of automatically doubting the OP, you should be looking for what pieces of the story actually fit together.

  GraceNFrankly: @FreddyKrugerrand1oz A drow, huh? Anybody know if this is our friend D or just another one running under FRoE directives? Not sure how I feel about mixing the two if it’s the same guy. But I can’t really complain. Whoever it is, they put that scumbag away so we can start clearing his black-magic shit off the streets and keep our kids safe again.

  PWNpalACE420: @FreddyKrugerrand1oz Maybe instead of believing everything you hear on the fell-damned dark web, you try using your brains. Unless you don’t have any left after whatever rez you came from finished brainwashing you. Good luck making it Earthside with the rest of the fucking sheep.

  ToriBrowzr45: Yes! I had to come up with a serious reason to tell my daughter she’s grounded for the next month just to keep her away from that awful place down in Carytown. That’s one of the distribution points for those potions and charms, and I’ll throw myself on the death torch before I let her step foot in that place. Hopefully it gets cleared out now that the traitor killing our flesh and blood is locked up where he belongs. @MeadLaquer So glad to hear your s
ister’s kid made it through. We’ve seen a lot in our circles who couldn’t be saved in time.

  PWNpalACE420: @ToriBrowzr45 You ever think it’s gaoler magicals like you who make their kids wanna go out and find some black magic? We came Earthside for a better life, not to be imprisoned by our own parents. #letthekidhavealife

  SLUMberJac: @PWNpalACE420 Troll!

  FerrisMedals82: Good news. We’ll keep an eye on things however we can. @Laird4Quad Thanks for putting this up. We’ll keep adding as more info comes in. Seriously, @PWNpalACE420, I am this close to hunting you down and giving you a piece of my mind. If you can’t quit clogging up these threads with your bullshit, get off the wagon.

  PWNpalACE420: @FerrisMedals82 You couldn’t track me down if you had a goddamn tracer spell and a piece of my tusk. And I bet you wouldn’t last two seconds in a fighting pit.

  orcsOVERwives: Keep the info rolling, people. We’ll build the best picture we can of what’s happening with our kids and how to get the rest of that crap off the streets now that the supplier’s out of the picture. Making this world safe for all of us, right? That’s why we’re here. @PWNpalACE420 Careful about picking fights here, man. I know at least five magicals on this forum who could find you in half an hour, VPN or no. Then you’d have your face plastered all over the Borderlands for everyone to see.

  PWNpalACE420: @orcsOVERwives Bring it. Maybe the rest of you Earthside-lovers have forgotten where you came from, but I won’t think twice about building a fucking pipe bomb and blasting your ass all the way back to Ambar’ogúl. #earthsideproblems

  FreddyKrugerrand1oz: @gu@rdi@n104 Flagged.

  GraceNFrankly: @FreddyKrugerrand1oz Thank you. I was about to do that myself.

  PWNpalACE420: @FreddyKrugerrand1oz Great. Just like an Earthside-lover who’s forgotten everything about who we are. Go choke on your wannabe human illusion spells. Nobody cares what you find offensive.

  gu@rdi@n104: @PWNpalACE420 Stand down. This is your first warning.

  Cheyenne leaned back in her chair with a snort and kept reading through the comments until they all started to look the same. Aside from the obvious trolling—and an admin warning apparently went a long way on the Borderlands forum, because PWNpalACE420 didn’t comment again for a long time—there was some really good information on here.

  “Okay, ignoring the speculation about who I am, these are some pretty good leads.”

  The ones that interested her the most came from comments mentioning the little pockets of black-magic dealing that had popped up all over Virginia and the surrounding states. Now that people had figured out what was killing their kids, they kept a sharp eye on those places. And if none of these magicals on the forum had mentioned the black magic shops or whatever they were being busted by the FRoE or anyone else, that meant nothing had happened so far.

  It took her several minutes to slog through the comments for the ones mentioning the distribution points for Q’orr’s instant-death products, but she finally narrowed it down to two of the most common locations in the Richmond area—Carytown and South Richmond. Sir specifically and the FRoE in general didn’t seem like the kind of people who would go clean up low-level spots like this. Taking Q’orr out had cut off the supply at the source, but what hadn’t been sold to kids yet was still out there.

  Heading out to this distribution site for black magic crap couldn’t be that much harder than following Rhynehart through Rez 38 just so he could tell her she was on her own with the Skaxen. This first site in Carytown wasn’t that far away. I could use the target practice.

  She left the Borderlands forum, got out of the dark web, and shut her computer system down for the night. “You’ve been running nonstop for a while, Glen. Take a rest. Maybe after I bash in some ugly thug faces, I’ll get a good night’s sleep too.”

  Amped up at the chance to unleash her drow side for a good cause, the halfling left her desk and headed toward the kitchen to look for anything remotely edible. The cabinets were empty except for a can of baked beans all the way in the back. She scowled at them and turned the can from side to side. I don’t even remember buying these.

  The loud, obnoxiously digital ringtone made her freeze.

  She rolled her eyes, gritted her teeth, and abandoned her cabinets to walk around the kitchen counter until she stood glaring down at her backpack on the floor. The front pocket flashed with a muted light as the FRoE burner phone Sir had given her kept ringing.

  Ember was right. I’ll end up regretting it if I don’t answer. This is gonna suck.

  Jerking open the front pocket of her backpack, Cheyenne pulled out the clunky old flip phone and gave it the middle finger before flicking open the top. Then she stuck the phone to her ear and hissed, “This better be good.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Honestly, halfling, I was pretty sure you weren’t gonna answer this call.” Sir’s dull, humorless voice came over the line with perfect clarity.

  “Yeah, well, you guys wouldn’t be able to get anything done without me, would you?” Cheyenne sat on the floor by her backpack and leaned back against the half-wall of the kitchen counter.

  “Fair enough. You might be entitled to rub it in. I take it you’re open for another assignment.”

  “Is that what you’re calling it?” The halfling snorted. “Sounds like you’re about to beg me to finish something your guys can’t.”

  “Everyone has an opinion, kid. Whatever you wanna call it, I’d like you on another operation tomorrow. Figured the least we owe you is a little advance notice.”

  “As long as it’s after two o’clock tomorrow,” she said. “If it can’t wait ‘til then, you’ll have to find someone else.”

  “That’s right. Because you’re just swamped with work for your graduate studies, aren’t you?”

  Of course, Sir knew about her not-so-regular life outside of being the FRoE’s new half-drow asset. Now that they’d figured out who she was, he was bound to make some kinda jab about it.

  “Something like that,” she muttered.

  “Right. Like you even need to go to school, with all the skills you already have.”

  “Cut the crap. I know you didn’t call me to talk about my dreams and aspirations.”

  Sir let out a dry chuckle. “That would be way too boring. Don’t worry about the time, halfling. We won’t need you ‘til tomorrow night. I’ll call you then with more information. Got it?”

  “Yep.” A long silence followed, and Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Is that it?”

  “That depends. Anything else you wanna tell me?”

  Yeah, eat shit. “Nope.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Cheyenne ended the call and closed the phone, then tossed the burner back into her open backpack. Sir had nothing to hold over her head now, beyond the fact that he’d said he could tell her about her dad if she kept tagging along on FRoE operations. Knowing she was Bianca Summerlin’s daughter didn’t give him any extra leverage, either. Not after the way Cheyenne’s mom had crushed him during their tensely civilized debate yesterday.

  As soon as the guy gives me what I wanna know about Inmate 4872, I’m out.

  The call had definitely dampened her enthusiasm for going out on her own tonight to crack magical-criminal skulls together. Her eyes were suddenly way too heavy, and her head dipped toward her chest. Just before she decided to turn in for the night, her stomach growled. Cheyenne looked down, then rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

  Her trip to the gas station down the street went just how she liked them—short, boring, efficient, and without anything feeling even remotely off. The asshole clerk who’d taken over Katie’s shift after the attempted and failed robbery the other night was as much of a jerk as ever, but Cheyenne managed to ignore him. The thought of zapping his cocky mouth with purple sparks got her through the chore of listening to him drone on about some sports team, then she brought her dinner back up to her apartment—bag of chips, jar of salsa, a frozen linguini dinner, and a bottle of vitamin water.


  She brought the steaming tray of linguini with her to her desk in the living room and turned Glen back on again to finish one more task. At the very least, and probably a lot more, she owed Ember this much.

  Hacking into VCU Medical Center’s server to access the billing department and all their records wasn’t any harder than slipping into the patient files. She pulled up the existing bills for Ember Gaderow and sucked in a breath through her teeth. The whole thing would have put Ember under more than two master’s worth of student loans.

  And that was why the drow halfling knew she could help. After several more minutes of looking through Ember’s patient files and the recommendations for rehab and therapy Dr. Andrews had given her, Cheyenne had selected all the best options plus adding several more days in the hospital.

  Wiring the chunk of money from her savings account, which had been opened and fully stocked with the inheritance Bianca Summerlin’s parents had left their grandchild just before they died, took a little longer. But then everything was paid in advance, all at once. “Guess we’re all lucky I turned twenty-one before any of this happened. Thanks, Elaine and Clive. I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have liked each other very much, but you helped my best friend get her life back. That counts for something.”

  Ember would probably freak out when the hospital told her everything had already been paid for and they could funnel her straight into the treatments she needed, but the fae in a hospital bed would just have to deal with it. That was what friends did.

  The halfling shoveled the rest of her linguini into her mouth, ignoring the over-cooked crunch around the edges, then shut Glen down one more time and downed the vitamin water.

  By the time she stepped into her bedroom, stuck her phone on the bedside table, and stripped, it seemed ridiculous that she’d thought she had the energy to go out on a private mission tonight. Cheyenne climbed into bed, stretched out on her stomach until her fingertips scraped the wall, and passed out.