“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t think FRoE Special Forces were trained in redecorating, anyway.”
The tall goblin let out a gruff laugh and folded his arms. “You know, I wasn’t sure about you ‘til I saw the way you blasted through those bastards at the church the other night. These two were probably a walk in the park compared to that, but I’m still impressed.”
“Yeah, thanks.” My newest FRoE fan, huh? Yeah, this isn’t weird.
“I’m Yurik.” He nodded at her, and Cheyenne nodded back, not quite ready to give him her name just yet, whether or not Sir and Rhynehart had already shared it. Yurik tried to wipe the smirk off his lips. “You got a phone on you?”
She frowned. “How else do you think I called for backup?”
“Lemme see it.” The goblin gestured for her to cough it up, and Cheyenne gladly pulled the burner phone from her jacket pocket before dropping it into Yurik’s outstretched turquoise hand. He flipped it open and started typing, thankfully without any comments about the crappy flip phone. When he was done, he snapped the phone shut again and handed it back. “All right. Now you have my number, just in case you make another mess and need to call in a crew.”
Cheyenne pocketed the phone with a crooked smile. “Is ‘Maid’ your new official title?”
“Nice try. It’s the least I can do, given the way you helped round up those kid-killers and their black-magic bullshit. I don’t offer that service to just anybody.”
“Right. Well, I appreciate it.”
“Looks like we’re on the same page, then.” Yurik chuckled again, his yellow eyes glinting at her.
“Hey, pretty boy,” Payton called from where she stooped over the knocked-out skaxen. The dampening cuffs clamped down around those bright-orange wrists, and the goblin grunted. “Unless you wanna cough up your MREs for the next week, cut it out with the chatting and do your job.”
Yurik scoffed and turned a crooked smile on his partner. “You need help cuffing two idiots who can’t even move?”
“You need me to beat your ass? Again?”
“I better get outta here.” Cheyenne grabbed the tote full of Ember’s things off the couch and nodded at Yurik as she made her way across the living room. “Thanks for the cleanup.”
“No problem.”
She couldn’t help herself when she passed the one-eyed goblin on her way to the door. “Nice to meet you, Payton.”
The goblin sent a half-assed kick into the skaxen’s ribs and muttered, “Fuck off.”
With a snort, Cheyenne opened the door and stepped out into the open-air hallway of the apartment building. Before she forgot, she locked the door from the inside and left it cracked a little before returning the spare key to its place under the mat.
The halfling slipped back into human Goth grad student just as Ember’s neighbor across the hall opened his front door. The guy froze, then shut his eyes and tried to shake off what he’d just seen. “Did you just…”
Cheyenne lifted her chin and gave him a tight smile. “Nice morning, huh?”
She didn’t wait for a response before heading back down the hall toward the parking lot. For having been attacked by a couple of crazies who clearly thought she was someone else, Cheyenne felt pretty good—even if she was apparently digging herself deeper and deeper into the FRoE when she wanted the exact opposite. Whatever makes it easier to squeeze what I want out of L’zar. Because I will.
Chapter Five
Ember pushed herself up a little straighter in the hospital bed when Cheyenne stepped through the door of Room 317. The fae shot her friend a wide grin. “I was starting to think you’d gone back to sleep or something.”
“Nope. Just got a little hung up.” The halfling slipped the tote off her shoulder, and Ember patted the bed beside her.
When she reached into the bag, she looked like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning, all grinning and wide-eyed. Until she pulled out the books. “Cheyenne.”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell is this?”
“You said any of the books on your desk, so I grabbed the ones on top and stuck ‘em in.”
Ember pulled out the first and turned it so her friend could see the cover. “The Grapes of Wrath? Seriously?”
“How was I supposed to know you weren’t in the mood for Steinbeck? It’s better than Good Housekeeping.” The halfling pulled the uncomfortable armchair up beside the bed and lifted herself into it, crossing her legs beneath her.
“I’m in the hospital, and I can’t walk. Reading’s supposed to help me escape, not make me even more depressed.”
Cheyenne couldn’t hold back a little laugh. “It’s not that depressing. I like that kinda stuff. When I feel like reading.”
Ember puffed out a sigh through loose lips and took in the sight of her friend—black shirt, black pants, heavy black eye makeup, chains around her wrists, and all the piercings. “Yeah, you would. I didn’t know you liked reading much of anything.”
“I don’t. I’ll go back later and get you something about rainbows and unicorns if you want.”
“Ha.” The fae rolled her eyes and shoved the book back into her bag. “It’s fine. Thanks for picking all this up for me.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Not a lie. “So, question.”
“Go.”
“Who else knows about you being a third-generation Earthside fae with no magic?”
Ember shot her friend a curious frown. “You mean, besides my whole family, who wishes I didn’t exist just to shame the bloodline? You. And then, well, Trevor and his other halfling friends.”
Who left you to bleed out without a second thought. Cheyenne cleared her throat. “Anyone else?”
“It’s not the best conversation starter.” The fae shot her friend a sidelong glance. “And it’s not like I have anything to hide. Not like you.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just mean the whole trying-not-to-let-the-pointy-ears-stick-out-of-all-that-hair thing.” Shaking her head, Ember let out a small laugh and scooted the tote of her things up the bed so she could throw her arm over it. “You know what I mean. Why? Who brought it up?”
“No one brought
