Corian looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Right. See? Sometimes you think it works, but a quick test just shows you it’s another dud. We’ll have to try again another day, kid. I can’t handle any more of this.”
“Dude.” Smirking at the way he cringed under that address, Cheyenne waited for him to look at her. “Corian…”
“I can’t sit through you attempting that spell one more time. It’s exhausting, and it makes me want to kill something.”
“Good thing you don’t have to, then.”
That made him look up, just as the halfling slid the copper ring off her pinky. The air shimmered around her, and her drow image fell away into the pale-skinned, black-haired Goth girl. “That looked like an illusion charm.”
“Because it is.” She wiggled her eyebrows and clenched the ring in her fist. “By the way, have you ever considered getting therapy for that ‘wanting to kill something’ problem?”
“Silence and solitude are all I need, Cheyenne. No therapist is gonna give me that.” He cocked his head and blinked slowly. “But you sure as hell can.”
“I get it.” The halfling snatched up the three other ingredients they’d used to bind the charm to that ring. Everything went into the front pocket of her backpack, the drow puzzle box slid into the main pocket, and she stuck the brown jar of darktongue salve in behind it. Then she pointed at the spellbook. “Cool with you if I leave that here?”
“If it gets you out faster.”
“Damn. Don’t hold back or anything.” With a wry laugh, she stood and grabbed the hardened leather slip with the O’gúl hornet’s web inside. I’m positive he’ll know what this is. I’ll bring it back next time. “Try again tomorrow?”
“Fine.”
“Oh, hey. Do you have, like, a cell phone or something? It gets pretty old having to pop onto the Borderlands forum every time I wanna ask to come over.”
Corian rubbed his temples again. “I’ll call you tomorrow. How’s that?”
“You don’t have my number.”
The Nightstalker’s silver eyes flashed with deadly irritation when he looked at her. “Are you sure?”
“Well, not anymore.” Shaking her head, the halfling moved toward the door.
“Cheyenne. Pendant.”
“Reduced to one-word sentences.” He didn’t think that was very funny, so she shut up and pulled out the Heart of Midnight on its broken chain. Once she’d tied the knot again, Cheyenne shot him a thumbs-up. Without looking, Corian deactivated the wards around his metal front door, and she nodded. “Thanks for all of it. And you should at least get a mini-fridge with a little freezer drawer.”
Corian clenched his eyes shut and whispered, “What the fuck?”
“You know. To ice your jaw. Helps with the swelling.”
“Out.”
“G’night.” Cheyenne jerked open the door and shut it quickly behind her before almost skipping up the damp steps covered in damp leaves. And I thought I had an issue with personal space. Nightstalker’s been spending too much time in a basement by himself. She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt the copper ring there. That and the chirp of her Panamera when she unlocked it made her grin.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Cheyenne practically stumbled into her apartment. Good thing I helped Ember to bed before I left. She’d think I showed up wasted.
The backpack slid off her shoulder and onto the floor beside the gray suede couch. Her black Vans thumped across the floor in the direction of the front door, and she staggered across the apartment toward her bedroom on the other side.
The chandelier lamp was still on, casting a soft purple light over everything. The halfling sighed, her shoulders relaxing as her exhaustion finally caught up with her. She emptied her pockets onto the chest of drawers with the skull handles, making sure not to toss the copper ring behind the furniture in the process. Then her clothes landed in a pile on the floor, and she brushed aside the black canopy around her bed before climbing onto the mattress.
“Oh, yeah.” The mattress sank beneath her weight. I could sleep on top of this purple velvet and be totally fine. But she forced herself to pull back the comforter and laughed as much as she could for how tired she was. “And black satin sheets. Ember Gaderow is officially the patron saint of Goths. I even sound drunk.”
She tossed some pillows aside but left the softest ones and had no problem drifting off to sleep, even with the Heart of Darkness pendant pressing uncomfortably into her collarbone.
“Cheyenne.”
The harsh whisper made the halfling roll over in her brand-new bed.
“Cheyenne, you need to wake up.”
She groaned, grabbed a pillow, and tossed it toward the voice.
“Hey! Get the hell up!” A loud clap echoed through her room.
It jolted Cheyenne the rest of the way out of her sleep, and she pushed up onto her elbows, blinking sleepily. When her eyes adjusted to the low light coming from the lamp she hadn’t turned off, she bolted upright and jerked the velvet comforter to her chin. “Shit! What… You…”
“Quit stuttering and listen up.” L’zar Verdys glanced at the blackout curtains over her window, then took a step closer to the foot of her bed.
“What the fuck are you doing in my bedroom?”
“I’m not. Technically. It’s the Don’adurr Thread. We did it once, and now that we opened the channel…” He clicked his tongue and shot another quick look at her window. “I can only do this so many times, so you need to pay attention.”
“Don’t tell me what I need—”
“Shut up.” The drow’s shoulders hunched as he glanced around a room Cheyenne couldn’t see. “I need you to
