“Give me the phone.” Cheyenne extended her open hand.
“Yep.” Rhynehart dropped it gently into her palm with a snort.
She lifted the phone halfway to her ear, which was plenty close enough to hear the string of nonsense metaphors and relentless obscenities spewing from the major’s mouth. “Feel free to tell me yourself, Major.”
Sir’s voice cut off instantly.
Cheyenne pressed the phone against her ear. “You still there?”
“Go jump off a cliff.”
“Well, I might. Just not quite yet. I could definitely use approval of Rhynehart’s request, though. Of course, if you deny it, I’ll probably have to stop by the base and grab new agents myself. Don’t worry, I won’t forget about paying you a visit either. It was so much fun last time.”
“Better yet, I’ll push you off that cliff myself.”
“I’m sure you’d like to.”
Sir snarled into the phone and thumped something beside him hard enough to make him hiss in pain. “Give him the phone, halfling.”
This time when Cheyenne grinned at Rhynehart, it was genuine. She handed the phone back and stuck her hands in her coat pockets. He caved a lot faster than I expected. Guess I made an excellent impression.
Rhynehart frowned as Sir spent another minute grumbling into the phone. “Got it. Yeah. No, you don’t need to—” Blinking quickly, he pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the home screen. “Hasn’t hung up on me in a long time.”
“But you’re good to go with the ol’ switcheroo, aren’t you?”
The agent slipped his phone numbly into the pocket of his black fatigues and turned to her. “What did you do to him, Cheyenne?”
She batted her eyes and emulated her mother’s honed talent for delivering shocking news with grace and barely concealed enjoyment. “I had a lovely conversation with his wife.”
“That asshole’s married?”
“I know, right?”
“Jesus. I think my brain’s turning inside-out.”
“You’ll get used to it.” Cheyenne took a deep breath and glanced at the agent’s empty hand. “You’re supposed to be calling the new team, remember?”
“Oh, shit. Yeah.” Rhynehart pulled out his phone again, cleared his throat, and scrolled through the contacts list. “You didn’t happen to hear Sir’s first name during that conversation with his wife, did you?”
“Many, many times.” Grinning like a crazy person, Cheyenne watched him make the first call. I’m not moving ‘til I know we’ve got magicals I trust on the way, but I can really enjoy the fact that I know all about Guy Carson, and Rhynehart doesn’t. “If you put aside everything you know about how the FRoE works and help me take down Colonel Thomas and those war machines, maybe I’ll tell you.”
“Hmm. Turning against the best employer I’ve ever had, helping a drow halfling and her criminal father bash up a few other criminals, and finally figure out that bastard’s first name. You know how much you’re asking, Cheyenne?”
“Of course I do. Will it be worth it for you?” She pointed at him and tried not to smile.
Rhynehart cleared his throat again as the line rang and stretched his neck and shoulders like he’d been cramped in a box all day. “Kinda, yeah.”
“Then it’s not asking too much.”
* * *
An hour later, the sun was well behind the horizon, but the sky was still streaked with fading orange light. Cheyenne’s drow hearing picked up the sound of another black FRoE SUV making its way up the gravel drive in front of the house. She met Rhynehart’s gaze and nodded. “They’re here.”
“What? How do you even know that?”
All she had to do was point at her pointy-tipped purple-gray ear poking out of her bone-white hair.
Rhynehart shrugged. “Can you handle briefing your friends on why they’re here?”
“Someone has to.”
“You know exactly why I didn’t.” He pointed at her and stalked over to his first team of agents, who looked dead on their feet. “It’ll make more sense coming from you anyway. Probably.”
“Yep.” Cheyenne turned toward the house and saw Corian watching her. He stood beside L’zar now, who still hadn’t moved, and pointed at the house in curiosity. “You’ll see.”
The halfling took off across the lawn, jogged up the flagstone steps beside the house, and hurried around the pruned bushes just as the newest FRoE vehicle pulled up behind the first in front of the Summerlin estate. Multiple pulses of soft yellow light shimmered behind the tinted windows, then the front passenger side door opened, and a grinning Bhandi leaped out of the SUV.
“Well, if it isn’t everybody’s favorite Goth drow! What the hell are you doing here?” The door slammed behind the troll woman.
“Dude, come on.” Yurik stepped out from behind the wheel and shut the driver’s side door a lot more gently. “Every time. Lemme guess, slamming doors was a thing in your house growing up, wasn’t it?”
Bhandi turned to the ridiculously muscular goblin with the massive bullring through his septum and snorted. “And I bet nagging was a big part of yours.”
Yurik’s yellow eyes narrowed, then he shook his head. “At least I’m trying to break old habits.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Bhandi waved him off. “Save it for the next time I need to be bored back into sobriety, ‘kay?”
Cheyenne laughed and looked the troll woman up and down. “Please tell me you weren’t called out of a bar to come out here.”
“Hell, no.” Bhandi approached the halfling and slapped a hand on Cheyenne’s back. “Any of those assholes try calling me in when I’m off-duty, they’ve got another think comin’. That includes Rhynehart.” She removed her hand when Cheyenne raised her eyebrow. “Yep. No touching the Goth drow. You hear that, fuckers? Hands off!”
“One of those things only you’d forget, Bhandi.” Tate slipped out of the back passenger seat, the tattoos covering his neck, face, and bald head clearly visible in the low light of dusk. “The rest of us aren’t stupid enough to get anywhere near that close.” He jerked his chin at Cheyenne. “How you doin’?”
Cheyenne wrinkled her nose. “Not sure how to
