“No.” Mattie shook her head. “I’m not the same person anymore. Mattie Bergmann’s got a pretty good deal going on in this life, and she’s here to stay.”
“I don’t give a shit what Mattie Bergmann does,” Corian growled. “I need Maleshi Hi’et.”
“Tough shit. You came to the wrong house.” Letting out a snarl, the woman whirled and stalked toward the living room. “Now, get out.”
Cheyenne sighed when Corian shot her a quick glance. She wanted to say, “I told you so,” but settled for a shrug instead.
The Nightstalker avoided the other O’gúleesh gazes as he followed Mattie/Maleshi. Cheyenne could only offer Persh’al and the goblins the same caliber of shrug when they looked at her next.
“It’s just twenty minutes, Maleshi,” Corian called.
“It’s twenty minutes better spent on anything else.” Mattie spun again and folded her arms. “I’m serious. If you don’t take your soldiers and get the fuck out of my house, I won’t hesitate to rip your head off your shoulders and make them carry it back to whoever you’re reporting to.”
“Soldiers?” Byrd whispered to Lumil as everyone else filed into the living room after the arguing Nightstalkers. “Did she forget everything?”
Mattie looked up as Cheyenne entered the room and pointed at Persh’al and the goblins. “No. What part of no do you not understand?”
“I’m not reporting to anyone, Maleshi.” Corian spread his arms. “This was my call.”
“It was a very bad call. And I don’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth, vae shra’ni. I have no reason to.”
Corian leaned away from her with a hurt expression. “I didn’t think you held my loyalty in such low esteem, General.”
Hissing, Mattie turned away from him and waved him off. “Don’t talk to me about loyalty.”
“That’s what brought you here in the first place, isn’t it?” Corian gestured toward the rest of her house with a quick toss of his arm. “That’s what made you leave. Because your allegiance isn’t to the Crown, Maleshi, and it never was. You did this for our home. And every O’gúleesh on both sides of the Border speaks your name in the same breath as rebellion.”
The Nightstalker woman let out a wry laugh. “Okay. And that’s why you forced the halfling to trick me into letting you inside my house, so you could weasel a confession out of me and bring me back across kicking and screaming. What did she offer you, Corian? My old medals? A seat at her wilting fucking feast?”
“The Crown can rip itself apart for all I care, and it’s headed that way as we speak. You have the chance to finish what you started when you laid down your banner, Maleshi.”
“Mattie!”
“General Maleshi Hi’et, Hand of the Night and Circle, Blade of the Untouched Eye,” Corian shouted back. “That is who you are! The truth runs deeper than flesh, even in the light.”
Mattie stiffened where she stood beside the light-brown couch against the wall. She stared at the floor, her hands clenching into fists. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Corian blinked, his upper lip twitching with the hint of his snarl. “And now I need you to put your rage aside and listen to the rest of what I came to say. I act for Ambar’ogúl, and my loyalty lies with the Cu’ón.” When Mattie looked at him, the Nightstalker nodded toward Cheyenne.
Slowly, the Nightstalker who’d spent the last few centuries convincing the world she was human turned toward the other magicals gathered in her living room. Then her gaze fell on Cheyenne standing just inside the doorway, and her eyes widened. “You brought her here with you as a messenger.”
“I brought her here so you’d understand what’s at stake,” Corian muttered. “And hopefully, to help convince you what you’re hearing is all there is to say.”
Mattie just kept staring at Cheyenne, although the surprise and dawning realization had filtered away from her green eyes. “Do you know what this is about?”
The halfling licked her lips and nodded. “Yeah.”
Lumil chuckled. “Hell, she might be the only reason we made it out of that—”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Mattie’s sharp gaze cut toward the goblin woman, who pressed her lips together and stared at the floor. “I’ll listen to what Cheyenne has to say. Anyone tries to lead her or change her story, I’ll rip all four of you apart and drop you into the Atlantic. Got it?”
The woman’s gaze roamed across the gathered magicals in her living room, all of whom returned short, firm nods. When she was satisfied, Mattie/Maleshi turned back toward Cheyenne and gestured toward the couch. “Please, Cheyenne. Have a seat.”
“Right.” Glancing at the other magicals, the halfling moved across the room, feeling Mattie’s gaze on her the entire time. She stopped by the couch and waited for everyone else to take seats on the loveseat and armchairs circling the low coffee table.
Persh’al and the goblins approached the furniture and stood in front of their prospective seats without moving. Mattie looked at Corian, and only when she tilted her head did he step in front of the loveseat. Then the woman joined Cheyenne at the couch and gestured for the halfling to sit.
Lowering herself onto the couch, Cheyenne frowned at the other magicals. They didn’t move until Mattie finally sat beside the halfling, then everyone else fell into their seats like puppets with their strings cut.
“I’m ready to listen to whatever you have to tell me.” Mattie met the halfling’s gaze and nodded slowly. All traces of her usual joking demeanor were gone.
I guess I’m talking to Maleshi now and not Mattie. This is weird.
Cheyenne shrugged and leaned forward with her forearms resting on her thighs. “We went to check out the new Border portal. There’s nothing there, not like the others. But then this…I don’t know. Corian said the things belonged in the in-between.”
Mattie glanced at the other Nightstalker, who dipped his head and raised an eyebrow. “You tried to cross over?”
“No.” Cheyenne
