“No, I’m overflowing with joy.”
The flatness in her voice made her laugh again, and in a weird, twisted way, the laughing started to make the rest of her feel better. They call this “slap-happy.”
After looking a little closer at the area where Durg the orc lived and would soon be having a chat with a drow halfling who only had one real goal these days—whether or not he liked it—she’d come up with a plan to pay the bastard a visit he’d never forget.
She saved the Durg file on her server just in case, then shut Glen down and turned off the monitor. Before she could stand up and shuffle into her room, a loud buzzing came from the outside pocket of her jacket. “You’re kidding me.”
After her surprise visit with Corian, she’d pretty much forgotten about Sir and Rhynehart and the FRoE and that screwed-up mission today that was apparently supposed to be her one last test. And she’d forgotten about the burner phone she’d slipped into her jacket pocket in the dry-cleaner’s parking lot. Slowly, Cheyenne pulled the clunky flip phone from her pocket and just held it, staring at the blue light illuminating the tiny square screen on the front.
It felt pretty good to imagine herself squeezing all that plastic and not-so-advanced tech in her fist until she’d crushed that phone to mangled junk. But her curiosity got the better of her.
Cheyenne flipped the phone open and brought it to her ear. She didn’t say a word.
“Good work tonight, halfling.” Sir sounded weirdly cheery. “Maybe you’re already aware, but I don’t give a steaming pile of shit what you think you already know. The FRoE was formed for a reason. Many reasons, actually, and it sure as shit wasn’t to hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt.”
He paused, and Cheyenne had no freaking clue what he wanted from her. “Congratulations.”
“I wanted to make sure you meant it when you said the same thing about who you do and don’t hurt. Rhynehart wasn’t lying when he said that was your last test, kid. Had to make sure your priorities are in order. The last thing we need is to work with someone who doesn’t have their head on straight. You’ve got drow blood in you. That’s about as much room as we have for liabilities.”
She had to ignore that jab about her drow heritage. Otherwise, she’d get herself more worked up than she could handle right now. So she focused on the second most important thing she’d heard from the other end of the line.
“So, I passed your idiotic test.”
“Yeah, halfling, you passed. Don’t expect any gold stars or a goddamn sticker book, and I’m not throwing you a party.”
Cheyenne clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Bummer.”
“But I will say this. Although you might not want to admit it, your conscience was showing in that goblin’s house. Apparently, you’re not so blinded by your need for dear ol’ daddy that you’ll do anything we tell you, even if it isn’t right. Maybe especially if it isn’t right.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t even know the guy, so don’t flatter yourself.” She lifted her hand to brush her wild hair away from her face and grimaced at the brief muscle spasm it sent racing down the left side of her back.
“Poor you. Listen, I’m about to send you an address. I want you to meet me there at oh-six hundred hours tomorrow.”
“Why? So you can tell me more about my exposed conscience?”
“I’m not interested in boring myself into an early grave, halfling. This is so you can meet L’zar Verdys face to face. You interested?”
Holy shit. He was actually gonna follow through with it.
Cheyenne blinked and pulled the phone away from her ear to look at it, just to make sure it was really there, and she was really having this conversation with Sir, of all people.
“I can’t read your mind, halfling. I’m gonna need a verbal response on this one.”
“Yeah.” The half-drow swallowed and felt a little dizzy. “Yeah, I’m interested.”
“Okay. Keep this phone on you.”
There was no goodbye, no “see you tomorrow,” but that would’ve been weird anyway. The line went dead, and Cheyenne slowly lowered the flip phone into her lap.
“Six o’clock tomorrow morning. That’s a lot earlier than I wanted to be up.”
The phone buzzed in her hand again, and she glanced down at a text from Sir with nothing but an address. It was enough.
Too curious to leave it at that, she ran a search on the address and found herself looking at a commercial business park on the north side of Richmond that couldn’t possibly be where Chateau D’rahl was located. Sir’s gonna love riding in the car with me.
She stuffed the phone into her jacket pocket again and pushed herself to her feet. Everything still hurt. Walking into the bathroom felt like she’d put on a hundred-pound weighted vest. She stripped in front of the sink and turned the shower as hot as it would go. Tonight, she could wash off the worst of the day and watch it swirl down the drain. Probably the best of the day too. That didn’t matter, though, because tomorrow, Cheyenne would wake up without any of it weighing her down. And then the halfling would be on her way to see the drow prisoner she’d waited her whole life to meet.
Chapter Ninety-Five
Two minutes before six, Cheyenne pulled into the parking lot of the business park at the address Sir had given her. Small birds swooped down from one of the streetlights in the parking lot, flitting around each other in the bright orange and gold sky in the last few minutes of a crisp September sunrise.
She got out of her car, locked it, and stuck her keys in the pocket of her black canvas jacket with all the extra silver buckles. Then she turned slowly, scanning the nearly empty parking lot. If he doesn’t show, I’ll find that FRoE compound
