“Careful, Trev.” The woman standing just behind Ember lifted a hand like she meant to pull him away from the orcs, then reconsidered and chewed on her fingernail.
“Careful? I’ve been careful for thirty years, Jackie. And this Border-rider storms in from Ambar’ogúl thinking he runs the place. You know what?” Trevor turned back toward Durg, whose beefy face was split by giant yellowed tusks jutting from his lower lip. “This is what I came to tell you tonight, face to face. Six months and a few terrified gremlins coughing up your so-called protection money doesn’t change a damn thing about how this world works.”
“Trev.” One of the other guys in the small group of Ember’s friends stepped behind the goblin and put a hand on his buddy’s shoulder. “I don’t think this is how you wanna handle things.”
“No, this is exactly how I wanna handle things. This orc doesn’t own me. He doesn’t own this city or any of us who came across to make something of ourselves instead of being parasites.”
“Your turn to watch it now, you halfling piece of shit,” Durg growled, lifting the gun in his hand and leveling it at Trevor’s gut.
“Okay, hold on.” Ember raised both her hands and stepped forward, throwing Trevor a harsh glare that meant one thing: shut up. She peered at the orc thugs who’d called this poor excuse for a meeting and nodded at the loaded pistol. “We don’t need to go there, okay? I’m pretty sure there’s a way for all of us to get what we want. So let’s talk and keep all the weapons pointed elsewhere.”
Trevor leaned toward Ember and muttered, “Is she coming?”
“Not now, Trev.”
“Not…you said you’d get her to come.”
“Hey!” The orc snapped his thick, meaty fingers then pointed at them, his gun still trained on the goblin’s gut. “I didn’t bring my guys all the way out here to sit in on your little conference, so shut the fuck up. This is how it’s gonna go.”
Seething, Trevor hissed at Ember through gritted teeth. “I did this because you said we had help.”
“And I told you to wait. If these guys found out what we are, how long do you think it’s gonna take the FRoE to find us? It’ll take even less time for them to put us in chains and send us all back.” Ember shook her head, holding Trevor’s gaze with her hard glare. “Right now, Trev, we must help ourselves.”
The orc leader issued a harsh, barking laugh and pointed his pistol up toward the sky. He turned toward the half-dozen thugs behind him, who stood there with their beefy arms folded, watching everything with blatant disregard for their own intelligence.
Cheyenne studied them from her hiding place. Maybethey just want everyone to think they’re brainless on purpose?
“Can you believe these morons?” Durg laughed again as he gestured at Ember and her associates. “Standing up for the little guy. Fighting a fair fight. Like they still think anything on this side of the portal is fair at all.”
Trevor shrugged his friend’s hand off his shoulder and stepped toward the orc. “Hey, things are good when O’gúleesh stop thinking they rule everything over here too. Somebody’s gotta change your mind, and if I’m the one who has to do it—”
The orc’s crooked grin dropped, and he leveled the gun at Trevor again. “What makes you think I give two undead brainstems what’s good for any of you?”
“Whoa.” Everyone in Ember’s group stepped back, all of them raising their hands.
Cheyenne inched around the column. Heat flared at the base of her spine. It swelled beneath her skin like hot mercury in a thermometer—a thermometer in a microwave, the red line about to explode. She clenched her fists, unable to show herself, unable to look away.
It’s going to be okay. Ember negotiated herself out of homework for two semesters. Cheyenne’s chest filled with heated air. Yeah, this isn’t remotely the same. Shit.
Ember licked her lips and stared at the pistol’s barrel gleaming in the moonlight. “It doesn’t need to be like this.”
Durg’s upper lip curled into a menacing sneer above his yellowed tusks. His chuckle lacked humor. “We’ll do it the way I say we will, trash.” He moved his arm a few inches to the right, swinging it from Trevor to aim at Ember’s face. “And I say shut your Earthside-lovin’—”
Electric-blue light hurtled from someone in Ember’s group and struck Durg’s shoulder. The orc leader staggered sideways, and a gunshot rang out.
“End this!” Durg screamed as he grabbed his injured shoulder.
His thugs barreled forward as one. Spells flashed and exploded on both sides, striking a few targets, mostly making craters in the park’s pavilion and skating area. Chunks of concrete flew in every direction, and Ember’s friends staggered across the ledge beside the halfpipe, flinging spells and retreating toward the chain fence’s open gate.
Cheyenne spotted her friend sprawled on the concrete at an awkward angle, her light brown ponytail splayed out on the ground in front of the halfpipe. A dark stain spread on the back of Ember’s shirt beneath the hiked-up hem of her leather jacket.
The mercury of Cheyenne’s rage exploded as searing heat flared up her spine, overwhelming the half-drow’s senses. She became vaguely aware of her skin turning, taking on her dark elf’s gray-purple hue. The tips of her ears lengthened and burned, the rage poured through her, and she roared.
Chapter Five
“What the hell?” Durg lowered his pistol, grasping his right shoulder, and stared at the shrieking shadow gliding beside the skatepark from the pavilion. “Brul, you were supposed to scout the—”
The shadow was a dark elf, and she surged forward with both hands raised. Black light erupted from her palms, and the chain-link fence between her and the orcs ripped apart in a tumult of tearing, twisting metal.
Durg thumped Brul on the back and
