The Drow Grew Stronger (Goth Drow Book 4)

by Martha Carr

  “Excellent opening statement. Ten points.”

  She gave him a deadpan stare. “Those new portals are opening because of some issues in Ambar’ogúl.”

  “I don’t give a duck’s corkscrewed dick about any of those glittering magical assholes on the other side.”

  “Shut up and listen.” Cheyenne slipped in and out of drow form and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get too comfy playing house, Major. That’s not why I’m here.”

  His nostrils flared as he studied her unflinching gaze, and he nodded with another grunt.

  “Those magical assholes on the other side have been using those unregulated new portals to smuggle O’gúl tech across the Border. To Earth. Maybe you already know the stuff isn’t supposed to work on this side, and I think you know that it does anyway.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “The machines, Major. War machines popping up out of the ground and digging their way into wherever the hell they’re told to go. They’re powered on this side of the Border by a program designed specifically for O’gúl tech. A man named Matthew Thomas owns the company and designed that program himself.”

  “Fucking woohoo for him.” Sir sipped his whisky and smacked his lips, licking small drops from his mustache.

  Cheyenne leaned toward him and studied every pulsing vein and twitching muscle in his face. I’ll find it. He’s an especially shitty liar when his wife’s around. “Matthew Thomas was introduced to a group of extra-large magical assholes by his uncle Colonel Les Thomas. One of your commanding officers, isn’t he?”

  “Look, halfling. You can play glowy-eyed detective all you want, but you don’t know a goddamn thing about—”

  “I know he was at that little meeting you called when L’zar got out last week, and Matthew Thomas happens to be my neighbor, so I know a hell of a lot more than you think. I don’t know who else is involved in this, but at the very least, Colonel Thomas has been using FRoE resources to send information to the other side. He’s been funding an operation run by those assholes over here that will be the worst mistake of your life if you don’t tell me everything else.”

  Sir snorted. “You’re as crazy as your old man.”

  “Maybe. Is that a risk you’re willing to take? ‘Cause the crazy drow slipped out from right under your nose, Major. Twice.”

  He sucked his lower lip noisily and sneered at the heating grill. “Assuming your cooked-up little conspiracy is true, and there’s no way it is, what in the goddamn cosmos do you think I’m supposed to do about it, huh?”

  “Set up a meeting for me. With Colonel Thomas.”

  “Ha! You did get the psycho gene from that slippery white-haired fuck.”

  “Hey, did you suddenly forget where we are and how easy it was for me to find you? This isn’t a game.”

  “It’s not true!” Whisky sloshed over the side of his glass when he spun toward her. “No way in hell, halfling. The FRoE doesn’t have double agents. Shit, except for you.”

  She cocked her head.

  “Everyone below and above me is squeaky-clean.”

  “Like Ranzig Ca’admar, right? ‘Cause nobody smelled that one coming except for me.”

  “That was a one-time thing.”

  “No, it was not.” Cheyenne glanced at the house when the clink of dishes rose from the kitchen inside the back porch. “I’m not making this up, and I’m giving you a chance to clean up your organization because it’s rotting from the inside out. When the O’gúl loyalists with that program running their war machines get everything working the way they want, a few unexpected portals popping up around Virginia are gonna be a piece of cake in comparison. Those aren’t normal machines, either. Your agents aren’t regular O’gúleesh, and they don’t have enough training or experience with this to know the first thing about how to take those machines down.”

  “Bullshit. My agents aren’t the problem.”

  “The problem is Colonel Thomas!” Cheyenne stepped away from him and glanced at the house again as Alice opened the sliding back door and poked her head outside.

  “I heard shouting. Everything okay?”

  Sir and Cheyenne raised their hands at the same time to wave at his wife. “All good, honey. We’re talking shop.”

  “You know how I feel about that.”

  “I’ll rein him in.” Cheyenne nodded and plastered a wide grin on her face.

  “Okay. I’m almost ready.”

  “Grill’s fired up and waiting.” Sir winked at her with an equally tight smile. The minute Alice closed the door and disappeared inside, he spun toward Cheyenne again. “You’ve always been a pain in my ass, and now you’ve gone too far.”

  “You know what? I came out here fully intending to bash your head in if you didn’t pull it out of your ass long enough to hear what I’m telling you. We have a serious problem. The FRoE isn’t run by the same people you started it with twenty-one years ago, and Colonel Thomas is gonna bring the whole thing crashing down on top of you.”

  “It’s impossible. That’s it.” Sir’s face darkened again, his cheeks quivering furiously as he shook his head. “Not even. There’s no way.”

  “It’s true, and I can prove it. Why would I lie to you?”

  “Huh, I don’t know.” He leaned closer and thrust a finger toward the back door. “You showed up at my home and threatened my life. I can think of a few reasons you’d wanna set me up and ship me out.”

  Cheyenne said, “More than a few, but ruining your life doesn’t do anything to help all the other people on this side of the Border, the refugees at the reservations, or all the O’gúleesh on the other side. If we don’t stop this, everyone’s going down, not just you. That’s what they want, and who do you think people are gonna blame when they find out about magic and the ruler on the other side sending her army out here to conquer Earth?”

  “What are you, schizophrenic? You sound like it.”

  “And you sound like a piece of shit for thinking that’s the right answer.”

  Sir stepped toward her and thrust a finger in her face. “Don’t try to pin your problems on me, halfling. You did this to yourself!”

  “You don’t know half my problems. You’re just the one I’m looking at right now.”

  “This is bullshit.” Sir downed the rest of his drink, glared at it, and grunted. “I need a drink.”

  “Do I have to kidnap you from your own backyard?”

  “Okay, okay. Shut up.” The man sniffed and shook his head. “I like the sound of this whole thing about as much as I enjoy a hot poker up my ass.”

  “You kiss your wife with that mouth?”

  “Fuck you. I’ll look into it. That’s it. I’m not signing a goddamn statement, Cheyenne, but I’ll look. That’s all I can do.”

  “Fine.”

  The back door slid open again, and Alice stepped onto the back porch with a long platter holding two well-marinated steaks. The stink of vinegar and spices made Cheyenne’s nostrils flare. I’m never touching vinegar again, not after Nor’ieth.

  “I’m sorry that took so long. The rolls have another five minutes in the oven, but these are ready to go.” Alice set the platter on the grill’s cold side-burner and stuck her hands on her hips. “Cheyenne, it’s been great to have you here. Why don’t you stay for dinner?”

  “I can’t,” Cheyenne muttered.

  At the same time, Sir said, “Fat chance.”

  “Oh.” Alice blinked rapidly and shrugged. “Okay. Is everything—”

  “Thanks for the drink, Alice. Excuse me.” Cheyenne turned and stormed toward the gate in the fence. The wood creaked and snapped when she pulled the gate open, and she forced her anger and the brewing heat of her drow magic back under control.

  Alice stared after her until their guest disappeared around the front. “Did something happen?”

  The first steak sizzled on the grill, and Sir tapped the tongs on the grate. “Who knows with that one?”

  She shot him a conf
used look. “I’ll go close the gate, then.”

  “Excellent.” He scowled at the grill, ignoring the smoke blooming up in his face as he slapped the other steak down beside the first. I’m never leaving my gun at the goddamn office again.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Cheyenne stomped down the sidewalk through Guy Carson’s neighborhood. He can’t seriously think I’m pulling all this out of thin air. The fact that I found him should’ve been enough.

  A dog darted toward her across the front yard of the house she passed. It stopped at the line of the invisible fence and jumped back and forth, hackles raised and tail wagging at the same time.

  Cheyenne looked at the dog and let out a low growl. The barking stopped, and the dog’s tongue flopped over the side of its open mouth as it panted at her, tail still wagging away. She kept moving.

  I can’t tell if Sir’s mad face is his poker face, but he wouldn’t have said he’d look into it if he didn’t plan to. He’s got eleven days. That’s all the time either of us has. I’ll be a little too busy to deal with his shit after that.

  She didn’t pay attention to where she was going, just walked down the street in the crisp, early-evening air to clear her head and put as much distance between her and Major Carson as possible without slipping into drow mode. Then I’d wanna go right back and tear him apart.

  Her phone buzzed against her thigh, and she reached into the pocket of her trenchcoat to pull it out. A call from Mom on the landline? I guess it’s technically after hours.

  Cheyenne answered the call and put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Cheyenne! Oh, thank God. I didn’t know when I’d get you to pick up. Have you been somewhere without service?”

  “Eleanor?”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t know what happened. She was out there, and she wouldn’t listen to me. I kept telling her to listen, to just come inside, and—”

  “Whoa. Okay, Eleanor. Hold on.”

  “Cheyenne, if I knew anyone else to call, I… Well, I only know you, really.”

  “Hey, slow down a second.” Cheyenne stopped on the sidewalk and stared blankly across the street. “Start over. Tell me what happened.”

  “Cheyenne, I can’t even think! I don’t know what to do!”

  A loud rustling came over the line.

  “Eleanor? Eleanor. What’s going on?”

  “You don’t have to yell, halfling. I can hear you fine.”

  Cheyenne forced herself not to break her cell phone. “Rhynehart, what the hell is going on?”

  “It’s Bianca.”

  “What?”

  “I know, kid. Shitty way to hear about it, but it’s not like we have another way to get hold of you.”

  “Is she okay? What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Rhynehart sighed. “And I don’t know. There’s something wrong with her. I think.”

  “Quit screwing around and give me information, man.” A car drove slowly past her, and Cheyenne briefly looked up before turning and pacing back the other way.

  “She’s just standing there, Cheyenne. Obviously, my team’s still up at her place, keeping an eye on the black rocks. Bianca’s been out here all day, standing in front of the ridge, and we can’t get her to respond. She won’t even move.”

  “All day?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And no one had the bright idea to guide her back inside? Jesus, nobody has a brain anymore.”

  Rhynehart cleared his throat. “We tried, kid. Trust me. Moving her, I mean. Can’t touch her, though.”

  “I don’t have a clue what that means.”

  “Well, it means it fucking hurts.”

  Cheyenne’s black Vans crunched on the leaves scattered across the sidewalk when she spun again, her heartbeat pounding furiously in her ears. “Seriously, what are you talking about?”

  “I have no idea. Pretty sure I said that already. But I can tell you right now, Bianca Summerlin’s sparking magic at anyone who touches her, and she’s already fried a few of my men without lifting a finger.”

  “No way.”

  “Something you’re not telling me?”

  Cheyenne looked disbelieving. “Not about my mom. What the hell? That’s not supposed to happen.”

  “Yeah, I had a feeling. You should probably get up here.” Rhynehart lowered his voice. “Maybe bring somebody who knows how to handle this, huh? My guys aren’t equipped for this kinda thing, and I’m not equipped to listen to Bianca’s housekeeper shrieking in hysterics. Not for much longer, anyway.”

  “Yeah. I’ll be there. Give me half an hour.”

  “You already on your way, or you gonna take the super-speed express?”

  “If anything happens to her before I get there, Rhynehart, I will blame you for it.”

  “Yep. I probably would too. Don’t take too long.” He hung up before Cheyenne had the chance.

  Shit. She shoved her phone back into her pocket and smoothed her hair away from her face. Okay. Hang in there, Mom. I’m coming.

  Cheyenne headed quickly down the sidewalk, glancing up and down the street. When the last visible car passed her and turned the corner at the end of the block, she slipped into drow speed and took off with a burst of swirling leaves and a loud crack, heading for Henry County. The street swirled with kicked-up leaves and dry twigs. The dog who’d barked at her and probably would have rolled over if she’d stayed gave a high-pitched whine and sank to his belly in the grass.

  * * *

  She’d underestimated by ten minutes and stumbled out of enhanced speed twenty minutes later. The gravel drive in front of Bianca Summerlin’s estate slid beneath her feet, and she almost ended up with a mouthful of pebbles.

  From behind the house, Eleanor’s frightened shouts echoed toward the front. “How could you let this happen? Why are you even here? You can’t keep her safe. You can’t keep any of us safe! Oh, my God. What if she never comes out of it?”

  Fighting to catch her breath, Cheyenne staggered toward the bushes on the side of the house, her mouth dry and her legs trembling. Okay, maybe I pushed myself too hard. Not like I had a choice.

  “Ma’am, please,” Rhynehart pleaded as she staggered down the flagstone steps toward the backyard. “I know I keep saying it, but the best way for us to handle the situation is if everyone remains calm.”

  “Calm?” Eleanor shrieked. “Does this look like something to be calm about? Listen to me, Mr. Secret Agent or whoever-you-are, I run this woman’s life, and the fact that she hasn’t moved from that spot in the last sixteen hours is the exact opposite of what makes me calm!”

  “Eleanor,” Cheyenne croaked. She pushed herself to move faster across the grass and raised her hand. “Eleanor!”

  The woman turned toward Cheyenne and gasped, then practically shoved Rhynehart away before taking off across the manicured lawn. “Cheyenne. I’m so glad you’re here. You got here so quickly.”

  “Come on, you know I can do that.”

  Eleanor grabbed the girl’s shoulders and looked her over. “Are you okay? You look awful. Sweetheart, I have no idea what to do.”

  “I know. It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.” Cheyenne gave the housekeeper’s arms a gentle squeeze, then removed her hands and walked past her toward the portal ridge.

  The pillars of black stone splitting across the pristine lawn of the Summerlin estate pulsed with waves of purple and green light. The colors mixed to give off a muddy brown glow that reflected in the FRoE agents’ eyes as they watched the halfling slowly approach.

  Bianca Summerlin stood in front of the line of portal stones, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, staring blankly at the pulsing lights in front of her.

  “Mom?” A cold knot of apprehension coiled in Cheyenne’s gut. “Mom, can you hear me?”

  “I already told you, kid. There’s nothing there.”

  She turned around and glared at him. “That’s not true, and you know it. Don’t say stuff like that.”

  “I mean
t, no reaction.”

  “Yeah, I know what you meant, but you need to work on your shitty delivery.”

  Eleanor clapped a hand over her mouth but didn’t dare mention Cheyenne’s choice of words.

  Now I know something’s wrong. Cheyenne turned back to her mother and swallowed. She would’ve told me to watch my mouth.

  “Mom, if you can hear me, blink or something.”

  Bianca’s eyes didn’t move, let alone blink. The rise and fall of her slow breathing were barely visible.

  “Mom? Mom! You have to snap out of it!”

  Eleanor reached toward the halfling. “Cheyenne, don’t!”

  Rhynehart darted toward them. “Hey, I said—”

  Cheyenne grabbed her mom’s shoulder. A bubble of the same dark, muddy light bloomed around Bianca’s entire body and blasted her daughter away from her with a zap. Cheyenne flew backward across the lawn, her skin and hair sparking. She hit the grass, slid another foot, and waited for the sting to fade from every inch of her skin. “What the hell?”

  Rhynehart jogged toward her. “I know we’ve had our issues, kid, but come on. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that.”

  “Well, you definitely didn’t lie about how much it hurts. I forgot about your warning.” Cheyenne wiggled her jaw, her face feeling like it was moving all on its own, and accepted his hand.

  The agent pulled her to her feet and nodded. “You okay?”

  “I guess. Yeah. Does that happen every time?”

  “Every time.” Rhynehart turned to look at Bianca and the portal ridge with a grimace. “Had each one of my guys take a stab at it.”

  “Hey. She is my mom, not an it. Not a target.”

  “Sorry. You’re right.” He shrugged. “Everybody here tried helping your mom away from the portal, and everybody got their asses launched back just like you did.”

  Cheyenne brushed her hair out of her face and studied her mom’s rigid, motionless figure. “I don’t get it.”

  “Right there with you, kid, which was why I suggested bringing someone else. You forget about that too?”