The Drow Grew Stronger (Goth Drow Book 4)

by Martha Carr

  Her purple sparks flew down the hall and crashed against the far wall, leaving a huge charred hole in the drywall. Somewhere in the other room, china dishes rattled, and a picture hanging above the new hole in the wall slipped off the nail and crashed to the floor. “Not fucking cute now, are they?”

  Sir stared her right in the eyes, his chest heaving beneath her hand.

  At least he can look at me and not try to run away. Points for stupidity, I guess.

  “Colonel Les Thomas is a superior officer in the US Marine Corps and a high-ranking FRoE officer.”

  “I already know that. What’s he planning with the loyalists? He’s already got them powering their machines with his nephew’s cutting-edge tech program. What else does he know? How long have you been reporting to him about me, asshole? ‘Cause at this point, it looks a hell of a lot like you’ve been playing dumb fucking grunt to this guy and making shit worse for all of us on both sides of the Border.” Sir snorted, but his eyes widened when she slammed her free hand on the wall behind his head. Her palm left another hole in the plaster and drywall, sending white dust all over them both and two more framed pictures smashing to the ground. “Speak!”

  “I’m not a goddamn dog, halfling.”

  “I’ll feed you to a dog if you don’t—”

  Cheyenne froze at the sound of a second car rolling up the driveway. She glanced at the closed front door, then shoved her face right back into his. “You expecting company?”

  Sir swallowed. “Just my wife.”

  She released his shirt and stepped back. A dozen other pictures lined the wall of the entryway. Sir in civilian clothes beside a woman in her late fifties with curly graying hair and a laughing smile. Sir and his wife at the park, a restaurant, in front of the house, standing on a beach. “Who the hell would marry you?”

  “I asked myself that same question over thirty years ago.” Sir sniffed, readjusted his shirt, and peeled his back away from the wall. His gaze darted toward the front door when a car door clicked shut outside, and all the fight he had left went out of him. “Don’t drag her into this, Cheyenne. That’s all I’m asking. Whatever else you wanna know, I’ll tell you. Just leave her—”

  The front door opened, and his wife stepped inside with a handful of mail. “Guy, I’m home. You went by the store, right?” She looked up and saw a human-looking Cheyenne standing beside her husband, both of them wide-eyed and silent. “Oh. Hi.”

  Cheyenne swallowed and took a step to Sir’s right to cover the hole in the wall beside his head.

  The woman smiled and glanced between her husband and the pale Goth girl beside him. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

  “Yeah.” Sir cleared his throat and recovered enough to come up with lies. “This is one of my work associates. Cheyenne—”

  “Blakely,” Cheyenne blurted with a nod. Sir shot her a weird look, and she forced herself to smile at his wife. We’re not throwing my real last name around for fun. I don’t care how long they’ve been married.

  His wife cleared her throat.

  The words spilled out of Sir all at once. “Cheyenne, this is my wife Alice.”

  Cheyenne kept the oddly tight smile on her face and reached slowly toward the woman to shake her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Carson.”

  “Well, don’t do that.” Alice quickly shook the halfling’s hand and laughed. “Just Alice, please.” She looked at them and raised an eyebrow. “You must be a big deal at the office, Cheyenne. He never brings anyone over, even for drinks. Speaking of which, can I get you anything?”

  Cheyenne almost burst out laughing. “Yes, please.”

  “What? No.” Sir took a step and stopped when his foot hit a can of garbanzo beans that had spilled out of the grocery bag. “Cheyenne was just leaving.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Guy.” Cheyenne waved a coy hand at him like they’d been close friends for years. “I can’t turn down hospitality like this.” Sir sputtered and stared at her, one eye twitching. Now I got him. “Alice, I would love to stay for a drink. Do you have any whisky?”

  “Ha. Do we have whisky.” The woman winked and pointed at her guest. “I know for a fact my husband keeps a bottle of his favorite at the office, and I keep another bottle of it here. I don’t see what the big deal is with Glenlivet, but I’m sure you two can compare notes. Want anything with it?”

  “No, thank you. On the rocks is perfect.” The grin Cheyenne gave Mrs. Alice Carson was as genuine as they came for the half-drow. “I’m gonna help your husband clean this up. I think I startled him when I showed up early.”

  Alice finally noticed the groceries spilled all over the floor and the broken glass from the fallen picture frames. She looked up at her husband. “What did you do?”

  Sir grunted. “Stumbled.”

  “Okay.” The woman looked him up and down, then smiled at Cheyenne. “I’ll get the drinks. Make sure my husband doesn’t hurt himself, won’t you? His blood pressure tends to spike when he does a lot of physical work. Even picking groceries up off the floor.” Alice chuckled and stepped down the hall. “It’s still the worst on Mondays, isn’t it, honey?”

  Sir’s lower jaw jutted out in aggravation. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home, Cheyenne. I’m glad we finally have company to entertain. You have no idea how long it’s been.”

  “My pleasure.” Cheyenne smiled after Sir’s endearing wife until the woman returned her attention to the mail in her hand. The whole time, she felt Sir’s glare burning into the side of her face and couldn’t help but rub it in a little more. “I like her.”

  “Don’t.”

  “You picked a winner there, Guy.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Any chance she’ll invite me to stay for dinner? I might take her up on that.”

  “Shut up and get out of my way.” Sir dropped into a squat and reached for the can of garbanzo beans.

  Cheyenne slipped into drow mode and tossed an arc of purple sparks at his hand. He snatched his hand back and scowled up at her. “I’ll get it. Don’t wanna spike your blood pressure, do we?”

  Sir got to his feet and wagged a finger in the halfling’s face. “I swear to every fat, fluffy, furball on legs, halfling, if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I’ll—”

  “Track my phone? Show up at my house? Try to blackmail me? Skip the halfling hierarchy and go straight to Bianca to prove a point?” Cheyenne clicked her tongue and felt her grin take the same shape she hated seeing on L’zar. “Come on, Guy. You’re out of empty threats and you know it, so sit back and leave the thinking to someone who knows what they’re doing, huh?”

  He snorted. “You mean, you?”

  The activator pulled up a series of commands from Cheyenne’s magic when she glanced down at the spilled groceries. She flicked her fingers, selecting the offered levitation spell she couldn’t cast on her own in a million years, and the grocery bags leaped from the floor to pile themselves neatly in her arms. Then she slipped out of drow form, cocked her head, and let herself channel Bianca Summerlin. “Well, I do have you at something of a disadvantage, don’t I? I hope it’s good whisky.”

  She stepped past him and headed down the hall.

  Behind her, the man shoved the broken glass into a pile with the side of his white New Balance sneaker, spitting out curse after curse, not in Major Sir Carson’s bellowing rampage, but in Guy Carson’s small, hushed whisper.

  This is way better than bashing in his skull. “Alice?”

  “Yes?”

  “Where’s the kitchen?”

  “Oh, turn left at the end of the hall. I’m almost finished with the drinks.”

  “Perfect.”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Glass spilled out of the dustpan into the trashcan before Sir shoved it back into its place beside the fridge.

  “You know, I wasn’t a huge fan of those picture frames anyway. They were gifts. Really, honey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed a
bout. It’s the perfect excuse to go buy new ones.” Alice handed Cheyenne a rocks glass of whisky with two square ice cubes, then lifted her own glass of chardonnay and clinked it against the halfling’s. “To meeting my husband’s associates.”

  “And such fantastic hospitality.” Cheyenne grinned at the woman and took a sip of Sir’s favorite whisky.

  He stiffly joined them at the kitchen counter, breathing heavily through his nose and staring at the glass his wife had poured for him.

  “How is it?” Alice asked.

  Cheyenne feigned hesitation and turned toward Sir.

  “Oh, be honest.” Alice chuckled and sipped her wine. “There aren’t nearly enough people in this world with the gumption to tell my husband the truth. Honestly, I don’t see why everyone seems so scared of how he’ll react, but he needs it, Cheyenne. Trust me, you won’t hurt his feelings.”

  Sir picked up his whisky, looked from the amber liquid to his wife, and smiled. “You make me sound like some kind of dictator.”

  Alice’s easy laughter drowned out the sound of Cheyenne choking on her next sip. The whisky fumes burned up her nose before she swallowed. Still worth it.

  Sir shot her a scathing glance and took a huge gulp.

  “Honey, you know that’s not what I mean.” Alice waved him off and leaned over the counter splitting the kitchen down the middle to share a conspiratorial glance with Cheyenne. “Honestly, I think I’m the only one who ever questions him, and I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  “Well, you should count yourself lucky.” Cheyenne lifted her glass to toast the woman again. “At least he’s his best self around you, if not everyone else. Some people don’t treat their family any differently than their coworkers, and that can be difficult.”

  Alice blinked in surprise, and her smile grew with her admiration for the young woman standing in her kitchen. “I don’t usually ask people this the first time I meet them, Cheyenne, so I apologize in advance.”

  “Don’t worry about it. What do you want to know?”

  “How old are you?”

  Sir rolled his eyes and took another huge swig of whisky.

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Really? And you landed a job in Guy’s department already?”

  “We’ve only been working together for…what is it, Guy? Two months?”

  He grunted. “Something like that.”

  Alice shot her husband a playful frown. “Did he hire you personally?”

  “He sure did.” Cheyenne grinned at Sir and raised her glass. “Picked me right out of a crowd, didn’t you? And you know what, Guy? I still haven’t asked you what made me stand out above all the other applicants.”

  “Oh, yes.” Alice turned toward her husband too, her eyes wide with interest. “I’d love to hear this story.”

  Sir blinked furiously beneath both women’s gazes, smacked his lips, lowered his glass to the counter, and shot Cheyenne a quick glance. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t do that.” Alice sipped her wine again. “We both want to know.”

  “I liked her style. I guess.”

  Cheyenne had never worked so hard in her life not to break out laughing. Somehow, she managed to keep it all filtered into a grateful, composed smile. “That’s so sweet.”

  He grunted again.

  “Sweetheart,” Alice said as she gently rubbed her husband’s back and gazed lovingly at him, “it is. And Cheyenne, I don’t mean for this to come off as offensive in any way, but we can talk all we want about how important it is not to assume things about people based on how they dress.”

  “Never judge a book by its cover,” Cheyenne added.

  “Exactly. It’s so great to see young people like you following your dreams, applying to work in a high-level department like Guy’s and still freely expressing yourself in a way that feels right to you.”

  “It is a nice story, isn’t it?” The halfling wrinkled her nose in pretend glee and raised her glass toward Alice again. “Your husband didn’t care one bit about the way I look. He’s one of those open-minded, inclusive, forward-thinking people, you know?”

  “Oh, Guy.” Alice leaned toward her husband and placed a lingering kiss on his cheek. Then she gave Cheyenne a coy smile and a playful shrug. “That’s one of the things I love most about this man.”

  “Among many others, I bet.” Cheyenne smiled sweetly at Sir and batted her eyelashes. I can go on like this all day, Major. Your move.

  He thumped a fist on his chest and grimaced. “We still have Tums in the cabinet, don’t we?”

  “Should be right next to your other meds, yeah.” Alice watched him walk away, then fixed Cheyenne with a secret smile. “He gets embarrassed so easily.”

  “I would never have guessed.”

  “I know. Under all this pressure at work and the constant responsibilities. He’s been in that department for about as long as you’ve been alive. Ha. Isn’t that funny?”

  “Just coincidence after coincidence.”

  “We’ll give him a minute. Oh. I want to show you something.” Alice stepped away from the counter, took a long drink of wine, then leaned over to set her glass down before heading into the hall again.

  His footsteps pounded across the hardwood floor from the other side of the house, and he skidded to a stop in the hallway, his eyes wide. “Alice. What happened? I swear, if she—”

  Alice frowned at him and pointed at the charred hole in the wall. “What’s this?”

  “Electrical shortage.” Cheyenne stopped in the door of the kitchen and leaned against the frame, sipping her whisky. Alice turned toward her, and Sir scowled at the halfling behind his wife’s back. “I saw a few loose wires in there when I walked by. Looks like something chewed through, maybe shocked itself. You might wanna check the place for rodents. You know,” her gaze darted toward Sir, and she raised her eyebrows, “rats.”

  Alice glanced into the charred hole. “Honey, you still have the number for the exterminator we used last spring?”

  “I’m sure I can find it.” A vein throbbed in the major’s temple.

  “We should call them tomorrow.” Alice glanced at her wristwatch and jumped. “Oh. Here we are chatting away, and I still have to get the steaks out of the marinade and put the rolls in the oven.”

  “Steaks.” Cheyenne nodded. “Very nice for a Monday.”

  “It used to be almost every day of the week. I finally convinced him of what the doctors have been telling him for years. Less red meat. More greens. Easy on the booze.” Alice chuckled. “We got two out of three, but at least the liquor doesn’t have nearly as many calories as all the beer. Small wins. I’ll take it.”

  Cheyenne raised her glass at Sir, whose face had darkened to the same shade as his maroon polo again, and nodded. “He seems to be doing fine.”

  “We both are, aren’t we?” Alice rubbed her husband’s shoulder and gave him a concerned frown. “Did you find the Tums?”

  “Yeah.” He stared at the wall and rubbed his fingers across his lips, ruffling his mustache.

  “Give it a little while. I’m sure whatever it is will disappear before you know it and leave you alone so we can enjoy our dinner.”

  “Doesn’t seem likely.”

  “Hey, remember what we talked about with Dr. Angstern? Our state of mind is as important as diet and exercise. Just a little optimism, honey. That’s all it takes.”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth, and a small, tight smile spread across his lips. “I know. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay.” She kissed his cheek, then clapped her hands together and smiled at Cheyenne. “Speaking of dinner, I need to get everything ready. I know it’s rude with guests over, but Guy has to eat at a specific time, or he’s up all night with indigestion.”

  “That’s fine. Don’t let me stop you.” Cheyenne sipped at her drink.

  “All right. I’ll take your word for it. Honey, did you pick up a new tank for the grill?”

  “It’s in the car.”


  “You’re the best. Cheyenne, would you mind helping him with that propane tank?”

  “Physical activity. I get it. Come on, Guy. You open the door, I’ll do the heavy lifting.” The halfling walked down the hall toward the front door and nodded for Sir to follow.

  “Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit with the steaks. Feel free to make yourself another drink, Cheyenne.”

  “And I won’t interrupt your cooking.” Cheyenne opened the door and held it for Sir. “You want your drink?”

  He nodded vigorously, then stormed into the kitchen to retrieve his whisky. Alice and Cheyenne smiled at each other, and when Sir returned, his glass was full again. “Then I’ll show you around back and heat up the grill,” he muttered.

  “Sounds like fun.”

  Alice chuckled and headed back into the kitchen.

  “Oh, and you could give me the grand tour of your lovely home if you like.”

  Sir pulled his face out of his rocks glass and snorted, heading through the front door without looking at her. “Fuck off, halfling.”

  Grinning, Cheyenne pulled the door closed behind her and followed him to his car.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The flames ignited on the grill in Guy Carson’s backyard, and he scowled at them before stepping back and taking another long drink.

  “Great yard.” Cheyenne gazed at the half-acre behind the man’s house, complete with a patio awning, two large trees with most of their leaves still clinging to the branches, and a well-maintained garden, despite the flowers having bloomed and died this far into autumn. “Aren’t you and Alice the perfect picture of suburbia?”

  He glared at her. “You didn’t come here to talk about my personal life, you psychotic changeling.”

  “No, but it’s so much fun.”

  “Get to the point.”

  “Sure. You know about the new portals opening because I told you about them.”

  He snorted and took another drink.

  “I’m only telling you the rest of this because I don’t trust you, and I want to see your face screw up when you realize you’re fucked.”