“Morning.”
Cheyenne whirled around to see Sir leaning against the hood of a metallic-orange Kia Rio. He wore civilian clothing—jeans and a dark-green polo shirt. Tucked in. They made him look older somehow, even with the salt-and-pepper hair at his temples and the lines in his wrinkled brow. Or maybe those were just because he was squinting at her against the rising sun. And what the hell was he doing in a Kia Rio? An orange Kia Rio?
“All right, halfling. Quit standing there like a narcoleptic chihuahua and get your ass in the car.” He didn’t wait for her to respond before pushing himself away from the hood and walking around the front of the Kia Rio toward the driver’s door.
The halfling didn’t waste any time trying to figure out what he’d meant by that analogy. She was too busy walking across the parking lot, trying not to run and give herself away. When she sat down inside, Sir already had his seatbelt on and was slipping a pair of black-tinted aviator glasses onto his face. Pulling down the sun visor with one hand, he pointed at the center console with the other. “Put that on.”
Cheyenne lifted her arm to find a thick black sack lying between them. She grabbed it, shook it out, and wrinkled her nose. “Seriously?”
“We’re headed to the highest-security prison full of the most deadly, bloodthirsty magicals this side of the Border. You think we give that location away to every emo millennial with daddy issues?”
“Aw, come on.” She smirked at him. “You don’t trust me?”
Sir started the car and still didn’t look at her. “If you don’t put that bag over your head, halfling, I get to pump you full of the knockout juice you got from Rhynehart when you met. Your choice.”
Hissing out a sigh, Cheyenne rolled her eyes and lifted the bottom of the heavy, thick black bag over her head. “Am I gonna have to do this every time I want a ride to Chateau D’rahl?”
Her voice was thick and muffled through the fabric, even to her own ears.
“Probably. If you even get to make another trip after this.”
“Wait, why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s still up in the air. But we might use a repeat visit as a reward for good behavior.”
She snorted. “You seriously don’t have to try bribing me anymore. I can behave.”
“Congratulations. I was talking about him.”
That made her sit back in her seat and blink against the heavy fabric of the bag over her head. So L’zar has issues with authority and following the rules. Big surprise there.
After the first ten minutes of riding in Sir’s passenger seat in complete silence, Cheyenne didn’t care about being able to see where they were going or trying to remember the way to Chateau D’rahl. She just wished she had something to see, or look at, or distract her. Every time Sir smacked his gum like some kind of barn animal munching on hay, she wanted to slap it out of his mouth.
“Any chance you could turn on some music or something?”
“Can’t hear you under that bag, halfling. Speak up.”
She rolled her eyes and raised her voice. “Can you turn on some music?”
“Too quiet in here for you, huh? Fine. What’d you have in mind?”
Cheyenne shrugged and turned her head toward what she thought were the controls on the dash for the radio. “Anything. I don’t care.”
“Gotcha…” Sir leaned forward in his seat to turn on the radio, flipping through stations without stopping to hear what was playing. When he did stop, the halfling didn’t know if she wanted to smash the radio to pieces or just open the door and throw herself head-first out of the car. “Hey, listen to this. This is good stuff right here. Classic stuff. You know Taylor Swift, right?”
The halfling rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “Never mind.”
“Can’t hear you when you’re mumbling, halfling.”
“I said, never mind!” She thumped her head back against the headrest and turned to look out the window, which of course, she couldn’t see.
“Whatever.” Sir punched the radio button again, and the music cut off. “What would you prefer, huh? Satanic ritual chanting?”
“If those were the only two options, yeah. Probably.”
Sir snorted and started with the gum-smacking again. Cheyenne leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. Longest car ride of my life.
* * *
The Kia Rio had hardly slowed down before they passed off the smooth pavement and onto a severely bumpy gravel drive.They skidded a little, maybe fishtailed once or twice, and Cheyenne thought she’d end up hurling into the thick black bag over her face and herself if Sir didn’t cut it out with the crazy maneuvers.
Then they stopped, and the engine cut off. Sir unbuckled his seatbelt and just sat there for a moment. “Take that stupid thing off. You look like an executioner on welfare.”
Cheyenne whipped the black bag off her head and tossed it onto the dashboard. Blinking against the sunlight bouncing at her from the hood of the car, she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door as Sir closed his behind him. Getting out and looking around brought a wild sense of déjà vu washing over her.
This is Chateau D’rahl, all right. Only I’m seeing it up close and personal instead of through security footage in Mom’s study.
There was the chain-link fence topped in concertina wire. In front of her and a little to the right were the open chain-link gates on huge wheels, just inviting her to come in and take a look around. The low guard tower sat six or seven feet up from the ground, the walls glass from halfway up. There was a prison guard in there too, wearing a navy uniform and a matching navy baseball cap with the letters CDR across the front in light gray. Two more guards stood halfway between the front doors of the prison and the open gate, wearing full protective gear minus a
