Well, the mall would’ve been a great idea if I’d left my car here. The things I do to live a double life, huh?
Cheyenne snorted and started walking toward the Park & Ride off the highway. She still had things to do, especially now that she’d seen the Border reservation and the way FRoE had run things for at least as long as she’d been alive, maybe longer. Cheyenne wasn’t looking forward to any of it.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
She got to the Park & Ride half an hour later after a combination of walking like a normal person and slipping into her drow form for the occasional short burst of speed. Cheyenne would’ve been lying if she’d said she wasn’t drained. Seeing as she had no idea when the FRoE burner phone would ring next, she had to use the extra free time to get things done.
Cheyenne grabbed her backpack from the trunk of her car and brought it with her to the front. She tossed the burner phone onto the passenger seat beside her backpack and pulled her personal phone out of the pack’s front pocket. The first number she dialed was one she knew by heart.
“Hi, Cheyenne. I’m assuming you got my message?”
“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I did. Sorry it took me a while to get back to you.”
“Don’t apologize. I know you have quite a bit on your plate. Honestly, so do I. Thank you for taking the time to call me back.”
From anyone else’s mother, this would have sounded like a passive-aggressive attempt to guilt-trip her child into more frequent phone calls. Coming from Bianca Summerlin, it was nothing more than what it seemed—an expression of appreciation.
“Thanks for answering.” Cheyenne sighed and lifted her hand to run it through her black-dyed hair, but the gesture brought a sharp twinge of pain from her shoulder, and she gave it up. “I have more free time today than I expected. I was wondering if I could stop by the house again so you can show me…whatever you were about to show me last time.”
Bianca paused long enough to make her hesitation perfectly clear. “I have a meeting at four-thirty, but that should only run for about an hour. Plan to be here at five-thirty, and I’ll make sure I’m available the rest of the night.”
I don’t need the rest of the night. She already knows that.
“Sounds good, Mom. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you then.” Bianca Summerlin wasn’t one for small talk unless she knew it would lead to something she wanted.
Cheyenne dropped her phone on the passenger seat. “Brief and to the point. That’s definitely where I get it from.”
Still, the drow halfling couldn’t imagine Bianca would get into bed with a man who didn’t hold at least some of those same values too.
* * *
She got to her apartment before 4:00 p.m., and when she saw the time on the clock over the stove, she puffed out a sigh. “Awesome. Missed another training session with Mattie. The Nightstalker.”
That word felt strange on her lips, but it was a new piece of information about her Advanced Algorithms professor, and that was something. She wouldn’t use it against the woman, of course, unless she had a reason to—and right now, the only thing she needed from Mattie was for her to stop freaking out.
Cheyenne slumped into her computer chair behind her desk and drafted an email to her professor-turned-magical mentor.
I had stuff come up today and couldn’t make it to your office hours. Obviously. Wanted to check in and let you know I’m fine, and I’ll be there tomorrow.
Cheyenne
She sent it and turned her monitor off, not bothering to log into the dark web to check the Borderlands forum. That thought made her stop, and she dropped her hand into her lap. “Third Quarter Projections. Q3. The reservation marketplace. Quarters projected over each other by those huge black towers.”
A laugh of realization bubbled up her throat, and she shook her head. “That’s a brilliant codename. Keeps out anyone who hasn’t been on a magical reservation. I guess that rules out magicals born in the cities and…everyone else. Huh.”
Feeling better for putting that small puzzle piece together—which didn’t matter much compared to other missing pieces of her life—she stood from the desk chair and headed into the bathroom for a shower.
I’d never hear the end of it if I showed up at a scheduled meeting looking like this. Even if it’s a meeting with my mom. Especially if it’s with her.
She stripped off the black tank top with the tattered black satin ribbon and the tight black pants with matching squares checkered across them. She peered at her reflection in the mirror. Turning to the right, she got a good view of her left side, which was covered in soot from her run-in with Q’orr but mostly looked okay. Then she turned to the left and grunted.
Her shoulder looked a hell of a lot worse in the mirror than when she looked down at it. “Like a giant freakin’ snakebite.”
It was hard to determine whether it was as red and swollen as she thought under so much dried blood, but the shower would reveal it. Her hip looked bad too. Cheyenne ran her fingers over the puckered scar and sucked in a sharp breath. It was still tender, and she was convinced most of that came from using her drow super-speed and fighting a black-magic Skaxen and a seriously messed-up goblin.
“Ambar’ogúl.” The word sent a shiver down her spine, and she shook her head at her reflection. “Mattie was right. There’s some kinda power in that name. Maybe if I say it quick three times, I’ll get sucked there.”
She snorted and went to turn on the shower. “Mom was pissed when she caught me watching Beetlejuice.”
The shower was exactly what she needed. She washed all the dried blood off her shoulder, being especially careful about it. Sha’gron had given her
