“I hope not exactly like this.” Cheyenne left the door to her old bedroom open and pushed Ember toward the last room at the back of the house on the second floor. “If anyone else gets their hands on the plans to this house, I’m pretty sure someone’s getting sued.”
“She really takes her privacy seriously, doesn’t she?”
For a second, Cheyenne didn’t say anything. How do I answer that kind of question? “Yeah, she does. That’s been priority number one my entire life, Em. Don’t give anything away. Don’t let people see the real person behind the image the rest of the world sees. Everything’s a secret, and every secret has a price tag.”
“People pay her for secrets?”
“Sometimes. It’s not always money, though. Among all the other things she does, Bianca Summerlin barters and trades in secrets. That might be the only thing about her that people do know. And that she’s the person to go to if you want to get the job done right. Politically, at least.”
“Crazy. That was your whole childhood here too, wasn’t it?”
“Yep. I mean, sure, there were certain perks.” Cheyenne tried to wipe the smile off her face when Ember laughed. “I’m not sure I’d change any of it, honestly. But it wasn’t all quality family time and happy days making lifelong memories in the Summerlin house.”
“I know what that’s like.”
“But I turned out pretty okay.” They both laughed, then Cheyenne left her friend in front of the set of French doors in front of them, these of lightly stained, polished wood. “Before I figured out how to basically plug my brain into computers, this was my favorite room in the whole house.”
“I can’t fathom how anything could be better than your room, but okay. Show me.”
The halfling grabbed both handles and twisted down, then shoved the doors open. The room beyond was cut in a half-circle, the wide, curving wall at the back made entirely of windows. A different set of furniture occupied either side of the room—sofas, loveseats, rocking chairs, and end-tables. In the center of the room in front of the sweeping windows were two cream armchairs and matching ottomans, both of them facing out toward the huge expanse of forest and the gently sloping hillside behind the house.
Grinning, Cheyenne grabbed the handles again and wheeled Ember across the room toward the window, stopping to the right of center. “Best seat in the house.”
“No shit.” The fae’s mouth fell open as she scanned the valley in front of them. The sun had almost set, but the pale light and a faint orange glow still flooded the valley with enough light to see twice as much as from the veranda jutting out below them. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah, it’s something.”
“Okay, so everything else in this place has a name. What’s this one?”
Cheyenne chuckled and folded her arms. “The breakfast room.”
“Kill me now.”
With nothing more to say to that, the halfling swept her gaze across the lawn and the valley. The scar of the new portal ridge ripped toward the house from the edge of the tree line like an open wound. Sure changes the overall look of things.
“I’d lock myself in here and never leave if I had the option.” Ember took another sip of her wine but couldn’t bring herself to look away.
“I did that once.”
“Ha. I can see them trying to break down the door.”
“Pretty much.” Cheyenne studied the portal ridge below. No lights. No monsters. So far, so good.
The sound of tires crunching slowly across gravel made her turn around. “That was fast.”
“What?”
“Couple vans hauling FRoE agents up the hill.”
Ember squinted at the half-drow above a smile of disbelief. “I know you can hear all the crazy things all the time, but I’m still amazed.”
“Well, thanks.” Cheyenne leaned around the side of her friend’s chair and nodded. “I gotta go get things sorted out down there. I can bring you down with me if you want.”
“No way. Leave me right here. Lock the door behind you. I’m good.”
Smirking, the halfling patted the back of Ember’s chair. “I can manage the first one. Not gonna lock the doors, though. A Summerlin doesn’t make the same mistake twice.”
“Okay, get outta here.”
Cheyenne spun and hurried across the few feet of hall between the breakfast room and the massive staircase. She ran down the center two steps at a time, grabbing the banister on the bottom to swing herself around before heading back toward her mom’s study.
“Mom?” She slowed in front of the open French doors and peered into Bianca Summerlin’s wood-and-leather-decorated private room. The chair behind the heavy executive desk at the back was empty, but her mom had left the bottle of Glenmorangie single malt out on the tray. And now she’s into the good scotch. Careful.
The halfling moved quickly down the house as the crunching of the tires grew steadily louder out front. The French doors onto the veranda were closed, but Bianca Summerlin stood at her place in front of the railing, gazing out over the steadily darkening valley. The glass of scotch in her hand was half-empty.
Cheyenne opened one door and took a tentative step outside. “They’re here.”
“Thank you, Cheyenne.” The woman raised the glass to her lips, her elbow propped on the opposite arm crossed over her midsection. “Do make it perfectly clear that no one sets foot inside this house.”
“I will.” The halfling waited in case her mom decided to turn around. It became clear that Bianca wasn’t moving from that position for a while, so her daughter withdrew into the house and quietly pulled the door shut again.
Eleanor stepped into the room from the other side of the dining table before Cheyenne made it into the opposite hall.
“Hey, Ember’s upstairs in the breakfast room, just so you know,” the halfling said, glancing at the bottom of the staircase.
“That’s fine, Cheyenne.” Eleanor nodded, focused now on how she could help Bianca through the rest of this crazy night. “I’ll go
