The Drow There and Nothing More (Goth Drow Book 3)

to work for shit. She needs protection. That’s why I cut my sentence short.”
“I still don’t get why you thought that was necessary,” Cheyenne muttered. “It feels like a bigger risk to have you running around wherever you want and almost tossing nice new cars off the road.”
Corian shot her a confused look, and she shook her head.
“I made a call, Cheyenne.” L’zar still hadn’t opened his eyes, his hands folded behind his head over the armrest. “You passed your trials. That means every O’gúl loyalist will know by the end of the day if they don’t already. The Crown wants you, one way or another. Option A is she brings you across and offers you a place in her ranks. Option B is she sends someone to slit your throat and ship your head to her throne in a fancy gift-wrapped box.”
“Jesus.” The halfling grimaced.
“She’s done it before.” The drow didn’t move. “And she hasn’t even sent her worst after you. I need to be here to keep you safe when she does because she will, eventually.”
“Well,” Cheyenne said, “I mean, I guess I appreciate you wanting to step in and defend me, or whatever. But I don’t see how you can protect me all the time when you’re supposed to be hidden. And trust me, I get attacked pretty much everywhere these days. Someone’s bound to recognize you sooner or later.”
“Corian?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’s the nalís?”
“With everything else I own.” The nightstalker shot Cheyenne an amused glance and rolled his eyes. “I’ll get it.”
“Do.” L’zar sat up in one swift, fluid movement, his long legs sweeping onto the warehouse floor with an ease that should have been impossible under the circumstances. He leaned forward, propped his forearms on his thighs, and met his daughter’s gaze. Then he blew a lock of straight bone-white hair out of his face and wiggled his eyebrows once.
I can’t figure it out. He either doesn’t give a shit about anything but his next private joke, or he cares about everything so much that it’s all the same thing.
She folded her arms and turned away from him to watch Corian. The nightstalker’s fingers finished their swift, efficient gestures before a portal opened into the single room of the basement labeled Apartment D. The portal stayed open even after Corian had stepped through, and the magicals in the warehouse watched him rummaging through metal shelving filled with all kinds of junk.
L’zar chuckled. “You’ve really been living in style, haven’t you?”
Corian tossed aside a rolled-up piece of cloth and slid away a box of candles, then reached into a worn boot behind it and pulled out a small, lidded tin. The portal closed swiftly behind him after he stepped back through, and he shot L’zar a cursory glance. “It’s a hell of a lot better than a prison cell. I’ll tell you that much.”
The drow’s smile returned, and he lifted his chin, staring at the tin in the nightstalker’s hand. “I know magicals who would sell their souls to get into your stash.”
“Many have tried.” With a raised eyebrow, Corian pulled the lid off the tin and drew out a small pin in the shape of a smooth, round leaf. It was half the size of a dime and glinted under the warehouse’s dusty lighting. “This should work.”
“Yes, it should.” L’zar pushed himself to his feet and approached his daughter and the nightstalker, holding out his palm. Corian dropped the pin neatly into the purple-gray hand, and the drow closed his fingers around whatever it was with a nod. “How are you with spellwork, Cheyenne?”
The seriousness of his question and the fancy air he put on while holding that tiny pin made her burst out laughing. L’zar glanced at Corian, who shook his head with a small shrug.
“What’s so funny?”
“Ask Corian.” Cheyenne doubled over again, snorting with laughter, and stuck her thumb out toward the nightstalker. “He’ll give you a more accurate answer.”
Corian clicked his tongue and stared at her until she’d pulled herself back together. Another snicker escaped her and she turned away from him, pressing her fist against her mouth. I’ll lose it if I see his face when he answers that one.
“Well?” L’zar raised an eyebrow.
The nightstalker tilted his head, turning down the corners of his mouth to keep from chuckling too. “Cheyenne’s incredibly proficient with her innate abilities.”
“Of course she is. She passed the trials. That’s not what I asked.”
Corian cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t advise her to cast spells if she has a choice.” He shook his head.
Cheyenne barked another laugh and stumbled backward, doubling over once more in silent, breathless laughter. Corian snorted, then his low, rumbling chuckle filled the warehouse as he watched her fall into hysterics. He looked back up at the scowling L’zar and shrugged. “Her spellwork’s shit.”
The drow raised an eyebrow at Cheyenne, who howled again and walked across the warehouse to get away from the conversation. “Then it looks like I finally get to teach her something.”

Chapter Six
Cheyenne stared at the leaf-shaped pin in L’zar’s open palm. He raised an eyebrow and tossed his head toward his side of the couch. “You can sit a little closer, Cheyenne. I don’t bite.”
“No, I’m good.” She clasped her hands together, unaware that she’d mimicked her father’s casual position, forearms propped on her thighs, head sunken a little between her shoulders. “What’s that do?”
“This will allow me to get to you quickly no matter where you are if you find yourself in a situation where a little backup would come in useful.”
“Assuming I can cast a spell when I need to, right?”
L’zar shook his head. “No. The only spellwork this needs will happen right here. The nalís will do the rest.”
“So, what? It lights the Drow Signal, and you come racing to my side with your super-speed?”
“It opens a portal on command.”
She frowned. “How’s that?”
L’zar studied the tiny pin in his palm. “Nightstalker blood in this little trinket, kid. Corian doesn’t like it, but it’s an old