Chapter Seventy-Four
Three hours later, Persh’al slammed a fist on the desk in his warehouse. “Come on, kid. You gotta give me something.”
“No, I don’t.” Cheyenne was sprawled on the old, sunken couch behind the troll and his computers, her eyes closed and her arms folded behind her head.
Persh’al spun around in his desk chair and blinked when he saw the drow halfling lying in that position on his couch. “Even in the human get-up, you’re giving me serious déjà vu.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Never mind.” The troll spun around again and typed some more. “You gotta be kidding me. Nothing. Like she just vanished into thin air.”
Cheyenne opened one eye to watch the troll’s frustration. “I’m pretty sure that’s the point.”
“Nah.” He shook his finger at her without turning around, still typing with one hand. “There’s always a trace. Has to be.”
“Good luck.” The halfling closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. Doesn’t feel like a waste of time. If he gives up trying to find her, I’ll know. Then this’ll be worth it.
“Yeah, I had plenty of luck pinging your server and playing your entire setup like a marionette. But I can’t find one of the most famous Nightstalkers living two hours away.”
Cheyenne sat up quickly on the couch and stared at him. “That was you?”
“Well, yeah. Surprised you didn’t figure that one out already, kid.” Persh’al shrugged and still didn’t turn around again to face her. “Really nice setup you got, by the way. Grabbing the reins on someone else’s rig usually only takes me half as long. So, you put up a good fight, the way you built it.” He paused, then let out a knowing chuckle. “Guess my warning wasn’t enough to scare L’zar’s daughter away from doing whatever the hell she wants, huh?”
The halfling slowly shook her head. “Hey, if you want someone to back off a search you weren’t supposed to find, you might wanna consider giving a reason. I don’t just drop everything to do what some stranger on the dark web tells me to do.”
“Maybe you should.” Persh’al typed more commands into his system and let out a frustrated grunt. “Would’ve stopped you from running blindly into that FRoE raid and getting yourself caught up with those idiots. They have no idea what they’re doing.”
Cheyenne lay slowly back down on the couch again. Don’t I know it. “You were spying on me to keep me away from the FRoE?”
“Just trying to keep you out of trouble. We all are, kid.” The troll smacked the desk beside his keyboard and slumped back so forcefully in his chair that the whole thing rolled back a foot. “You’re killing me with this. How ‘bout a last name, huh? Maleshi can’t hide for very long without one of those. And don’t be a smartass and tell me to look up Maleshi Hi’et. I already tried.”
“I told you I wouldn’t help you find her,” Cheyenne muttered. “I made a promise.”
“Yeah, yeah. The strongest contract bond. I get it. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
The door to the warehouse burst open and Corian stepped inside, carrying two huge bags of sub sandwiches. “So, where is she?”
“Yeah, question of the day, man.” Persh’al rubbed his bald, speckled head beside the jutting mohawk and glared at the symbols on his monitor Cheyenne couldn’t read.
The plastic bags thumped down on top of the long center desk. “You haven’t found her yet?”
“Okay, maybe we should have a Nightstalker looking for a Nightstalker,” the troll muttered. “Isn’t there some kinda secret communication thing you guys have with each other? Sniff out her pheromones or whatever?”
Cheyenne snorted. “Is that really a thing?”
Corian ignored them both as he stared at the symbols on the troll’s monitor. “Look up the professors at Virginia Commonwealth University. Find a picture or something.”
Frowning, Persh’al turned in his desk chair to study Cheyenne’s reaction. Apparently, staring back at him was all he needed. “Yeah, I bet that’ll work. Don’t have to break a promise to give anything away, do ya?”
His fingers flew over the keyboard, and Cheyenne shot Corian an unamused look. The Nightstalker pulled two sandwiches out of the plastic bags and brought them with him when he approached the couch. The halfling begrudgingly sat up and swung her black Vans onto the warehouse floor.
“I know what you’re doing and why.” He held out a sandwich and waited. The halfling held out her hand, and the thick, heavy bundle thumped into her palm. “Might help you understand a little more why I can’t tell you everything right now, Cheyenne. As much as I want to.”
“I know the definition of keeping a promise, Corian.” She lowered the sandwich into her lap and stared at the white butcher paper wrapped tightly around it. “And I understood why you can’t tell me certain things from the very beginning. I also thought I could trust you to keep whatever I’ve told you to yourself.”
“You can.” He took a deep breath. “Trying to protect Maleshi is a waste of your time, kid. Especially now, with that new Border portal and everything we don’t know about it. And just so you know, she doesn’t need protection. Not the Maleshi I know. If anyone needs protection, it’s the idiots who stand in her way.”
“Or the idiots who dig her up after centuries of hiding. Which she chose, right?”
“She’ll understand why we’re doing this when we tell her what we saw this morning.”
Cheyenne shook her head and glanced at the sandwich. “Good luck trying to get her to listen. Never worked for me.”
“Well, things have changed since then, haven’t they?”
When she looked back up at him, the Nightstalker just raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. A lot’s changed. Just not what people won’t tell me.” They stared at each other. “What happens if I figure it out on my own before your promise runs its course?”
Smirking, the Nightstalker nodded toward Persh’al and unwrapped his sub. “I’ll probably give away the same kinda confirmation you just
