“Who the hell is that?”
“Holy shit! It’s him!”
“Get back!”
Eleanor’s scream cut through the agents’ startled shouts, and she fled back to the house, the strings of her apron left on that morning streaming behind her as she ran.
Cheyenne tried to ignore the agents running around like a magical bomb had gone off when L’zar Verdys stepped through the portal. “I didn’t tell you to bring him.”
Corian nodded. “I told him that. He refused to stay behind.”
“Great.”
“Goddammit, Cheyenne!” Rhynehart stormed toward her with a hand on the fell pistol at his hip. “You said you didn’t know where he was!”
“Hey, did you see me walk through that portal?”
“You called the damn nightstalker who opened it! How am I supposed to believe you had no idea L’zar Verdys was with that cat-looking creep?”
Corian snarled, “Watch it.”
Rhynehart stepped away from the nightstalker but didn’t draw his weapon. “I have orders. I’m taking him in.”
Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “Go for it. And have fun. I know he will.”
“What?” The agent stopped and spun to stare at her.
“He’s not playing ‘imprison the drow’ anymore, Rhynehart.” Cheyenne gestured toward her father, who twirled both hands and gave the FRoE agents a flippant bow as they drew their weapons and waited for the order. “Seventy-five years in Chateau D’rahl was a game for him. Don’t tell me you can’t see that.”
The agent bit his bottom lip and cringed when L’zar gave his crazed drow laugh and spun in a wide, slow circle. “Shit. I’d tell you to give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put him away right now, but that’s enough.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Corian watched the drow thief intently. “He might be the only one who can help her, kid.”
“Let’s go find out.” Cheyenne shook her head and headed toward the gathered agents, who had all aimed their weapons on L’zar Verdys.
“Cheyenne!” He spread his arms and dipped his head. “What a welcome, huh? I haven’t seen the end of this many toys in three-quarters of a century.”
Rhynehart raised a hand toward his agents and shook his head. “Stand down.”
“Are you insane?”
“Stand down, Walden!”
The agents blinked in confusion and eyed L’zar warily, but pistols and fell rifles lowered slowly under their team leader’s command.
“So, you think you know what’s going on here?” Rhynehart nodded behind L’zar at Bianca’s motionless form.
“That depends. I’d love to hear what Ms. Summerlin has to say.” When the drow thief saw Bianca standing there, his grin disappeared. “No.”
“Huh.” Rhynehart cocked his head. “Definitely sounds like he knows what’s going on.”
“Not in the good way.” Cheyenne shot the agent a disapproving glance, then hurried toward L’zar. “What happened to her? Is she okay?”
The drow thief reached slowly toward Bianca, then pulled his hand away and pressed his fingers to his lips.
“L’zar. I asked you a question.”
“Give me a moment, Cheyenne.” One of his eyes twitched as he studied Bianca, moving in a slow circle around her. He stopped in front of her, his eyebrows creased in concern, and dipped his head toward her. “Bianca?”
Corian joined them and chewed the inside of his cheek. “Any idea what—”
“I said, give me a moment!” L’zar’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, and his golden eyes glowed without leaving Bianca’s face. “When I’m ready to tell you, I will tell you.”
“Sure.” Corian set a hand on Cheyenne’s shoulder and drew her back. “Come on, kid.”
“Wait, does he know or not?” She saw the warning in the nightstalker’s eyes, combined with the strengthening pressure of his fingers on her shoulder, so she swallowed and forced herself to nod. “Right. He needs some time. Fine.”
“Yep.” Corian looked at L’zar warily, then turned with her and led Cheyenne away from everyone else. When they were out of earshot, he let go of her and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You’re not gonna like what I’m about to tell you, kid.”
“You know what this is.”
“No, but he does.” Corian glanced at L’zar, who leaned closer to Bianca, his expression changing from wide-eyed surprise to a concerned frown to disbelief and something else.
Looks a lot like sadness.
Cheyenne couldn’t take her eyes off her parents. “Why won’t he tell us what happened and how to fix it? I mean, he doesn’t even have to do anything. I’ll take care of it. I need to know what to do.”
“I know. And he’ll tell us when he’s ready, kid. Whenever he comes out of shock.”
“Out of shock?” Cheyenne gestured harshly toward her father. “That doesn’t look like shock to me. He’s studying her like she’s some kind of experiment!”
“Trust me, Cheyenne. I’ve spent enough time with him to know his moods and what he’s thinking. For the most part.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re gonna speak for him now? Then what the hell’s he thinking?”
The nightstalker gazed at the grass and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Corian!”
“It’s bad, Cheyenne.”
She stepped away from him and swallowed. “Shit.”
“The rest will have to wait. And then we’ll do what we need to do.”
Cheyenne’s legs wobbled, and she staggered before letting herself sink to her knees. “That bad.”
“Nothing L’zar Verdys and his halfling daughter can’t handle.”
She didn’t have to look at him to hear the truth behind his words. He doesn’t believe that.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Cheyenne knelt in the same spot in the middle of the lawn for the next half hour and didn’t move. Ember sat beside her in the grass, though neither of them could think of anything to say as L’zar paced between Bianca and the portal ridge. The FRoE agents were nervous, keeping at least twenty feet between them and the drow who still had twenty-five years left on his sentence at Chateau D’rahl.
Probably more, now. Not like he’s gonna serve it.
Lumil and Byrd stood on the other side of the portal ridge with their arms folded, staring at everyone else and muttering their thoughts aloud to each other. Persh’al sat cross-legged in the grass, his elbows on his thighs and his chin resting in his cupped hands as
