“Today?” The halfling gestured around her perfect Goth bedroom, now tainted by L’zar Verdys’ astral form or whatever standing in the middle of it. “I just ended yesterday.”
“Trust me, Cheyenne. You don’t want to wait on this one. It’s not— Shit!” He ducked his head again, golden eyes darting back and forth before he crouched even lower. “We don’t… Left… Until the cycle…”
His image flickered in and out of existence with the rest of his words, then he was gone.
Breathing heavily, the halfling searched her room for any sign of her incarcerated father popping back into her personal space uninvited. After about a minute, she dropped back onto the bed and stared at the center of the canopy above her. Fuck. No more sleep tonight.
She tossed the covers off and leaped out of bed. Grabbing two of the skull knobs to open the drawers only brought a brief, tense smile. Didn’t even have a chance to enjoy this. The drawer jerked open, and she found an oversized t-shirt folded neatly on top. An image of some burly guy in the same uniform as the ones who’d stepped out of her apartment flashed through her head—some dude laughing as he folded Cheyenne’s clothes, put them in drawers, and went to collect his tip.
“Stop it.” She shook out the t-shirt, yanked it over her head, and headed quickly toward the iron staircase up to the mini-loft. Her bare feet were a lot quieter going up those stairs, and she hardly felt the metal mesh digging into her soles.
The office chair up there wasn’t nearly as comfortable as hers, but it didn’t matter. She turned on her monitor, followed by a quick systems check before setting up the VPN one more time and diving into the dark web. Once she’d reached the Borderlands forum, she scanned quickly through the most recent topic threads and hissed. Nothing new. Nothing about a breach.
Cheyenne growled in frustration, then glanced over the side of the loft in the direction of Ember’s bedroom. Nothing moved in the apartment. “It’s an adjustment period. We’re fine.”
She pulled up a private message to Corian, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
Shyhand71: Just got an unexpected visit. And a direct message for you straight from his mouth.
Slumping back in the office chair, she drummed her fingers on the armrests and stared at the open chat box. No way he’s still awake. He wouldn’t hear the rest of that house fall down around him—
gu@rdi@an104: Don’t say anything else here. Meet me at this address at 8:00 a.m.
And that was it. He sent the address, the chat box closed from his end, and Cheyenne glanced at the clock at the bottom of her screen.
Three o’clock. Great. I get an hour of sleep and have to wait three more.
She logged out of the dark web, killed the VPN, and turned off the monitor. Then she moved quietly down the metal staircase and back into her room. She put on the first thing she pulled out of that chest of drawers without thinking about it—a pair of black skinny jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt with the neckline cut wide to drape over her shoulders. “Whatever. What am I supposed to do for three hours?”
The latest episode of a show she’d never heard of ended and the halfling snatched the remote off the coffee table to find something else. “Well, that was a waste of a whole hour. Just one more to go.”
Her personal phone dinged from where she’d wedged it beneath her thigh on the gray couch. Cheyenne pulled it out and read the text from Ember.
Any chance you’re up?
Dropping the remote, the halfling texted back. Yeah. You need some help?
That would be awesome.
Cheyenne swung her legs off the couch from where she’d stretched out to binge-watch not-so-binge-worthy shows and stood. When she reached Ember’s bedroom door, it was second nature to knock first.
“Oh, do come in, won’t you?” Ember joked.
The halfling slowly opened the door and tried to smile. “Good morning.”
“Whoa. Apparently not.”
“Yeah, My sleep was interrupted.”
Ember cocked her head. “Dreams?”
“More like visions. A visitor from Chateau D’rahl.”
“Did he escape again?”
“Nope.” Cheyenne approached her friend’s bed and held out her arm. Ember reached for the halfling’s shoulders, and they worked quickly to transfer her into the wheelchair. “Apparently, that little drow-astral-projection trick made it super easy for him to project himself into my bedroom.”
“Oh, creepy.”
“Yeah.” Cheyenne straightened and waited for Ember to get adjusted. “You good?”
The fae nodded. “Bathroom break. Just gotta go through the morning routine first.”
“Okay.” Watching Ember wheel herself into the bathroom, the halfling frowned and walked quickly to the kitchen. The fridge had only a few things, the most enticing of which was her leftover spaghetti from the night before.
Just as the microwave beeped and Cheyenne withdrew a steaming container of noodles and marinara, Ember rolled into the room. “Okay, so what the hell was L’zar doing in your bedroom?”
“Giving me a message for Corian.”
“Figures.”
Cheyenne shot her friend a confused smile. “I’ve really painted a good picture of both of them for you, haven’t I?”
“I have a good imagination. What’s the super-important message?”
The halfling slurped up the last of a steaming forkful of spaghetti and leaned over the container. “No offense, Em, but I think it might be a super-secret kinda message.”
“None taken. You eating leftover spaghetti at six-fifteen in the morning might be a whole different issue.”
“I was hungry, it was in the fridge…”
“You know, sometimes it’s really hard to believe that you’re Bianca Summerlin’s daughter.”
Cheyenne almost snorted her next bite through her nose. “Why, thank you.”
“Uh-huh.” The fae folded her arms. “So, did you deliver the message already?”
“Oh, crap. I gotta go.” After shoveling two more heaping forkfuls into her mouth, Cheyenne ripped
