“Hey, Mom.”
“When can I expect these men to get off my property?”
Cheyenne slipped out the door and hurried across the lawn toward the closest student parking lot. Yes, hello. I’m fine. Thanks for asking. Yeah, I’m never getting that from her.
“As soon as we’re sure nothing else is coming out of that thing in the backyard.”
“Cheyenne, I would very much appreciate an estimated timeline.”
The halfling sighed after pulling the phone away from her mouth so she didn’t give Bianca Summerlin something else to be upset about. “I know. So would I. When I have one, the first thing I’ll do is give you a call.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “If that’s the best you can do.”
“If it wasn’t, we’d be having a different conversation.”
“Yes. I suppose we would.”
Cheyenne skirted around a group of laughing, shouting students tossing a frisbee and trying to tackle each other at the same time. She turned to glare at a lanky guy who was at least six-foot-four who’d almost knocked her over, but he shrugged and took off across the field. “I’m guessing nothing weird’s happened since I left.”
“This entire situation is weird.” Bianca’s disdain for the word came through loud and clear. “But if you’re asking about any new developments, no. Nothing beyond my growing irritation and this team’s obnoxious display of the tactical skill known as sitting around and waiting. Specifically on my lawn.”
Forcing down a laugh, Cheyenne picked up the pace when the parking lot came into view. “They’re there to keep you and Eleanor safe, Mom. I can’t always be there to engage those things, and I’m not leaving you unprotected until I figure out how to get that whole thing off the property and out of your hair.”
“Yes.” The clink of ice against glass punctured the silence. “Just so you’re aware, Cheyenne, I’m not unprotected. I went to the shooting range every Saturday at eleven when I lived in the city.”
Then she hasn’t fired a weapon in twenty-one years. Totally reassuring.
“I bet you hit ten out of ten in that red circle every time.”
“Nine out of ten,” Bianca muttered. “But I’m satisfied with ninety-percent accuracy.”
“Believe me, I wish this was something we could take care of with bullets.”
A blonde girl in yoga pants, a cream turtleneck sweater, and tan Ugg boots stared at Cheyenne and stepped sideways to put six feet between them as they passed each other. The halfling rolled her eyes and headed for her Porsche. Right. Can’t mention magic or bullets in public.
“I know.” Bianca took another quick, demure sip of whatever drink she’d made herself, probably a bruncheon cocktail, and hummed into the phone. “I know you’re busy. Call me when you’re able to move this process along.”
“I will.” The line went dead, and Cheyenne stuffed her phone back into her pocket. I’d like to think she’d stop hanging up on me when all this is over. Pretty sure a magical portal and an impending war across the border aren’t enough to change her habits.
Chapter Thirty
When Cheyenne stepped into her apartment at just after 11:50 a.m., the complete silence made her pause. “Em?”
“Hey.”
Shutting the door and immediately turning the deadbolt again, the halfling stepped into the living room and peered around the corner into the bathroom beneath the mini-loft. “Everything okay?”
“It is now.” Wet rubber smacked on marble, and Ember wheeled out of the bathroom with a grimace. “You think we can revoke those invitations Corian mentioned last night? ‘Cause I kinda wanna tell that goblin chick she’s not allowed to come over anymore.”
Cheyenne chuckled. “Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. Big uh-oh.” Ember wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and shook her head. “I just spent the last hour cleaning that toilet. An hour. I think I’ve lost all sense of smell.”
“Well, I can tell you used a lot of bleach.”
“More than I’ve ever had to use on anything.” The fae shuddered and rubbed her sweaty, slightly pruney hands on her pants. “Who does that in someone else’s house? Not to mention that she’d never been here before, and they put up wards to keep everything out. Should’ve added something to the bathroom.”
Laughing, Cheyenne folded her arms and shot her friend a sympathetic frown. “I could’ve done that.”
“Hey, just because I can’t walk, it doesn’t mean I can’t clean. Doesn’t mean I want to, either, but I couldn’t let that go on any longer.”
“I’ll make sure to say something about it.”
Ember looked at her friend with wide eyes. “Don’t. I was joking about the invitation. Mostly.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Cheyenne scanned the living room. “I’ll make it sound like it came straight from me. Worst-case scenario, she gets all butthurt and doesn’t want to come over again. Honestly, I just think she’ll laugh and say, ‘Welcome to the rebellion, halfling.’ Or something equally stupid. But I’m right there with you. Not cool. You ready to head out?”
“It’s already time to go?” Ember blinked and patted her pocket, then nodded at the coffee table. “Grab my purse, and we’re outta here.”
“Yep.”
Once Ember had her purse nestled in her lap, Cheyenne unlocked the front door and held it open for the fae to wheel into the hall. She couldn’t help but glance at Matthew Thomas’ front door across the hall before she locked up behind them. Ember was already halfway to the elevator.
“Find any purple specks in the bathroom?”
The fae leaned forward to punch the call button and shifted in her chair. “Nope. I’d say it’s a little creepy that tiny cameras in the bathroom even crossed your mind, but I gotta admit it was the first thing I thought of too.”
“It’s fine. We can both be creepy. Kinda necessary to deal with all this other stuff.”
Ember shot her friend a sidelong glance. “You’re way creepier than I am.”
“Only on the outside.”
“Ha. Nope.”
“At least
