“That doesn’t make sense.” Ember laughed again and smoothed her hair away from her forehead. “’It looks like I’ve already figured out how it all works?’ Seriously?”
“At least from where he’s standing. Don’t forget that little nugget.” The halfling stared at the door and shook her head.
“Like he was surprised that I haven’t been in a wheelchair my whole life. What? I don’t even know if I should be insulted or flattered by that.” Ember glanced down at her lap and wrinkled her nose.
“Uh, maybe don’t be anything?” When her friend looked at the closed door and started blushing, Cheyenne stepped away from the island toward her. “You okay?”
“I have no idea.” The fae looked disbelieving. “That was the weirdest conversational Tetris I’ve ever had to play.”
“That’s a perfect analogy, Em.”
“I mean, I can’t just come out and say, ‘Hey, I just got shot and lost the use of my legs a little over two weeks ago. Not looking to date someone right now, so kindly back off.’”
The apartment fell silent as Ember’s words settled between them.
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
Cheyenne snorted.
“It’s not funny.” Ember went through the motion of throwing something at her half-drow friend, but her hand was empty.
“It’s kinda funny. Maybe you should’ve just said that.”
“I can’t say that out loud to someone!”
The halfling’s mouth popped open, and she gasped. “Or maybe our new neighbor Matthew Thomas is just into chicks in wheelchairs.”
“Stop.”
“That might be it, Em. He did seem kind of disappointed when you said this whole thing was only temporary.”
“Oh, my God.” Ember buried her face in her hands again. “I can’t tell if that’s better or worse.”
Cheyenne laughed and approached her friend. “Apparently, it doesn’t matter. He’s still into you hardcore.”
“Cheyenne.”
“I don’t have a drow’s sixth sense for nothing.”
A low, rhythmic buzz filled the apartment. The girls glanced around for the source of it, then the halfling’s gaze fell on her backpack on the corner of the gray suede couch.
“Dammit. Right now?” She stalked toward the couch and jerked open the zipper on the front pocket.
“What’s going on?” Ember chuckled again, her blush fading now. Her smile faded too when she saw the halfling’s scowl.
“Fucking FRoE burner phone.” Cheyenne lifted it toward her friend, her lower jaw jutting out in irritation. “Those guys have a perfect track record for shitty timing.”
Ember stared at the clunky flip phone. “You gonna answer it?”
With a frustrated growl, Cheyenne cocked her head. “Well, now you get to watch me in action, huh?”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Cheyenne whipped open the burner phone and almost slammed it against her ear. “Yeah.”
“Halfling.” Major Sir Carson’s voice was low, scratchy, and almost hesitant.
He’s pissed about something and is calling me in as Plan B. Again.
She waited for him to start spouting commands at her as usual, and couldn’t help herself when he didn’t. “I’m assuming you called me for a reason. I’m waiting.”
“You need to get your ass down to the compound stat. We got a problem.”
“You don’t say?”
Sir cleared his throat. “I can taste your sarcasm, kid. Not my favorite flavor.”
Cheyenne frowned. “Yeah, well, I don’t like the taste of you dragging out this call and not giving me a reason for dropping everything for you on a Saturday morning.”
Muttered words were exchanged on the other end of the line, followed by a short, “Dammit.” The line crackled, and Sir’s voice came back loud and clear. “Sheila’s got fifty-nine out of the sixty kidnapped chicklets back to their parents. The last one won’t tell us a goddamn thing.”
“You still have one of them with you?” The heat of the halfling’s drow magic would have been tingling up her spine by now if she wasn’t wearing that damn pendant.
“I don’t want her here any more than you do. Since you’re the kid-whisperer, get down here and help us put this last one back where she belongs. Right now, halfling.”
Cheyenne hung up on him and flipped the phone shut. “What the hell are they doing?”
“I’m guessing that wasn’t a congratulatory phone call with a side of thank you.” Ember watched her friend with a concerned frown.
“I’ve only gotten one of those. Kinda.” The halfling shook her head. “I have to go, Em. Apparently, all the gear and fancy fell weapons fall short of getting one last kid back to her family.”
“The ones you rescued?” Ember wheeled across the living room, jerkily swerving around opened boxes and cluttered packing material.
“Yeah. Shit, if they’d just listened to me from the beginning, she’d be home right now with all the others.” Cheyenne snatched up her black hoody and jerked it over her head. Then she grabbed both phones, her keyless fob, and her wallet and shoved them into various pants pockets. “Two days. Two. That kid has to be freaking out by now.”
“Anything I can do?” Ember shot her a hesitant smile.
“Just hang tight, Em. Apparently, I’m the only one who can do anything about it.” The halfling blinked and glanced around their apartment. “Sorry to have to skip outta here like this.”
“Shut up. There’s a kid locked up with a bunch of assholes in black and a magical family somewhere who’s worried sick.” The fae girl shrugged. “I can handle being by myself for a few hours.”
“Okay. I have my phone, so if you need anything—”
“She’s a kid, Cheyenne. I’m just in a wheelchair. I can hold down the fort.”
With a wry chuckle, the halfling headed toward the door and turned around to point at her roomie. “I know you can, Em. Even if Matthew Thomas comes knocking on the door again. You have all this figured out, right?”
“Don’t make me push you out of here. With me in it, this chair packs a punch.”
Laughing, Cheyenne opened the door and slipped out into the hall. “I won’t be gone too long.”
“’Kay, bye.”
The door shut behind her, and Cheyenne jerked down the bottom of her hoody as she headed toward the elevator. If Sir hasn’t ripped Rhynehart a new one for leaving
