The worst part was that Bianca Summerlin looked like shit.
“Cheyenne,” she whispered fiercely, her eyes wide and glistening with fearful tears.
“Mom?” This is a dream. It has to be a dream. No way would she let me see her like this. Cheyenne stepped into the bedroom without meaning to. “Are you okay?”
“Cheyenne, help me.” Bianca started to tremble, her knuckles white with the fierceness of her grip on the quilt. “I won’t make it without you. Help me, Cheyenne.” She swallowed and looked desperately around her bedroom, her eyes flicking left and right as she panted. “You have to hurry.”
“I’m right here.” Cheyenne took another halting step toward her mother’s bed. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m begging you, Cheyenne. Help me. Right now. Come right now!”
The sudden buzz of Cheyenne’s cell phone on her bedside table jerked her out of the dream. Her eyes flew open, and she blinked in the darkness against the bright light behind the screen. “What the fuck kinda dream is that?”
Groaning, she rolled over beneath the sheets and slapped at her phone. It took her three tries before she picked it up and pulled it over to her. The single word on the screen woke her up the rest of the way: Home.
“Shit.” Cheyenne answered the call and propped the phone against her ear. “Hello?”
“Cheyenne, sweetheart.”
“Eleanor?”
“I’m so sorry to call you so late, but I didn’t know what else to do. Something’s very wrong.”
“Whoa, okay. Slow down a second.” Cheyenne pushed up off the pillows and gripped the phone tighter to be sure she didn’t drop it. “What happened?’
“It’s Bianca. Honestly, beyond the fact that it’s obviously bad, honey, I have no idea what to tell you.”
“Well, try, okay? Please?”
Eleanor took a shuddering breath. “At first I thought it was a seizure again, or a fever. Then these weird designs showed up. They’re on her skin, Cheyenne. There’s no way in hell I’m calling a human doctor to make a house call for something like this.”
“No, no. That’s probably not the best option.” Cheyenne blinked furiously and slapped her cheek to clear the cobwebs of sleep.
“Are you all right?”
“Just waking up. Is there anything else happening? With Mom?”
“Well, not that I can see, but I have a feeling that doesn’t really mean anything at this point. Cheyenne, I need you up here to tell me what to do. We need you.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.” Cheyenne threw the purple velvet bedspread off and swung her legs over the side of the canopy bed. “I’ll get there faster if I have Corian’s help.”
“Sweetheart, there were over a dozen magic people sitting at our table last night. I think we’re past the point of walking on eggshells when it comes to bringing them into the house again. Just get here as soon as you can.”
“Give me a few minutes. Thanks for calling, Eleanor.”
“Well, don’t thank me just yet. See you soon.”
Shit.
Chapter Eighty-Three
Practically launching herself out of bed, Cheyenne dialed Corian’s number, turned on speakerphone, and tossed her cell onto the bed as she darted to her black dresser.
He answered on the fifth ring.
“I normally don’t get much sleep, Cheyenne,” he croaked, “but you call me on the one night when—”
“Something’s wrong with Bianca.” She shook out a pair of relatively clean black jeans and slammed her pants drawer shut with her hip. “I need you to port me to her place.”
“What?” He cleared his throat. “What happened?”
“Weird designs on her skin, Corian. That’s straight from Eleanor. How much you wanna bet they’re O’gúl runes in the shape of that drow bitch’s curse?”
“I’ll be right there.” He hung up, and Cheyenne pulled on a blood-red shirt with black satin strips crossing the chest.
After she finished tugging on her clothes, she snatched a hair tie off her dresser, twirled her hair back into a loose bun, and grabbed her trenchcoat off the bench at the foot of the bed. Her phone went into her back pocket, keys jingling in her coat as she stormed out of the room. She didn’t bother to shut the door behind her.
“Em?” A low groan came from her Nós Aní’s bedroom. “I know it’s late, but I’m yelling ‘cause there’s something wrong with Bianca.”
“What?”
“I’m about to leave, so if you—”
Ember shrieked, and a gust of purple light flared beneath her bedroom door. Cheyenne raced to the fae’s room and flung open the door just as Ember found her voice again.
“What the fuck’s the matter with you, asshole?” Ember pointed at the door but glared at Corian, who was standing in the middle of her bedroom. Her other hand clutched her sheets to her chin.
The nightstalker shrugged. “Figured I’d make sure you both were awake.”
“Nobody gave you permission to pop into my personal space whenever you think it’s a fun fucking idea! Get out!” Ember waved her hand at him, and another burst of purple light propelled Corian backward through the doorway. The bedroom door slammed shut, and Corian staggered across the kitchen.
Cheyenne blinked at him. “You think you’re really cute, don’t you?”
“It was an honest intention to help us get moving a little faster, kid.” He rubbed his chest and grimaced. “A naked fae doesn’t interest me in the least under the best of circumstances.”
“Right. Good thing we don’t have a cat.”
Corian glared at her, then Ember’s door flew open again and cracked against the wall. She floated into the kitchen and flipped him the middle finger with both hands. “Don’t ever wake me up like that again.”
He dipped his head. “I’m sorry. Can we go now?”
Ember gestured for him to continue, and the nightstalker conjured a portal straight to the upstairs hallway of Bianca Summerlin’s house.
The French doors were open just like in her dream, and for a second, Cheyenne thought it was Bianca sitting up in the huge bed when she walked through the door. No, that’s Eleanor.
“We’re here.”
“Oh!” Eleanor jumped off the side of the bed and turned around, her hand tightly gripping Bianca’s pale, limp fingers. “That was fast.”
“Not something
