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

They’re all human and at the top of the FRoE chain. Here we go.
A middle-aged woman with long auburn hair pulled back in a tight bun nodded at the halfling. “Thank you for coming, Cheyenne.”
Cheyenne glanced at Sir, whose scowl hadn’t softened one bit. “No problem.”
The woman didn’t offer her name or the names of the other officials sitting with them before she grabbed a recording device in the center of the table and slid it toward her. She made a big show of making sure Cheyenne saw the thing, then she pressed a button and folded her hands in her lap.
“Are you aware that this conversation is being recorded?”
The halfling frowned at the device. “Yeah.”
“Do you consent to the recording of the conversation we’re about to have?”
Glancing at Sir, Cheyenne bit her bottom lip and got comfy in the desk chair. He’s playing everything by the book ‘cause it’s his ass on the line this time. “Yeah.”
“Thank you. Please state your name.”
“Cheyenne Summerlin.”
“Tell us what you know about L’zar Verdys.”
The halfling smirked but quickly got rid of it. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific.”
Sir’s fist thumped on the table, garnering disapproving glances from the other officials. He cleared his throat and leaned forward. “You know damn well what we wanna hear.”
Cheyenne met his gaze and stared the man down. “I know he’s my father, and I know he’s been a prisoner at Chateau D’rahl for the last, I don’t know, fifty years?”
The woman questioning her looked slowly from Sir to Cheyenne. “Seventy-five, to be exact. His sentence was for one hundred years on Cell Block Alpha. Are you aware that L’zar Verdys, also identified as Inmate 4872, disappeared from his cell at that same high-security facility?”
“You mean, he escaped?”
The other officials shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Sir clenched his fist even tighter on the table, and Cheyenne’s drow hearing picked up the otherwise inaudible creak of his knuckles.
“Are you aware of the situation, Ms. Summerlin?”
“Yeah, I’m aware. Major Carson called me this morning to tell me.”
The officials’ eyes widened at both the use of Sir’s real name and the fact that he’d called an unaffiliated third party about such classified information.
Looks like someone else is keeping secrets.
Sir’s face bloomed a dark shade of red, his mustache twitching and his beady eyes never leaving the half-drow’s face.
The woman with the auburn bun cleared her throat. “Do you know where L’zar Verdys is at this moment?”
He could be anywhere. Cheyenne met the woman’s gaze and shook her head. “No.”
“Bullshit,” Sir hissed.
“Major.” All it took was one glance from the woman, and Sir flung himself back into his chair again.
Sir’s got his own Sir. Look at that.
“Ms. Summerlin, have you had any contact with L’zar Verdys outside of your approved visits to Chateau D’rahl in the last few weeks?”
“Yeah.”
More shifting in seats. The three officials exchanged excited glances and Sir’s eyes narrowed even farther, making him look like he was about to sneeze.
“Where and when were these instances?”
Cheyenne wrinkled her nose and spread her arms. “This might come as a surprise, seeing as none of you have stepped into the whole drow experience, I’m guessing. One of L’zar’s many endearing qualities is his ability to show up in my head. That’s where I’ve seen him.”
Sir lurched from his chair. “We’re not fucking around, halfling!”
“Neither am I,” Cheyenne muttered.
“I swear to Abe goddamn Lincoln, Cheyenne, if you don’t cut this shit out—”
“Major Carson.” The woman barely raised her voice, and Sir turned his wide-eyed stare on her instead.
“She just told us the drow talks to her in her head. Are you seriously putting stock in that?”
The woman glanced at Cheyenne, tilted her head, then slid one finger toward the recording device and paused it. “I’ve spent my entire career questioning witnesses and suspects, Major, both human and magical. I’ve gotten pretty damn good at spotting a lie even before it’s finished being told.”
Sir scowled, his mustache bristling against his nostrils. Cheyenne had to scratch her nose, just looking at it.
“There’s no way that’s possible,” he muttered.
“Really?” The woman blinked slowly and lifted her chin toward him. “Until 1999, it wasn’t possible for an incarcerated inmate to break out of Chateau D’rahl. Until yesterday, it wasn’t possible for a new Border portal to erupt in the middle of Henry County, or anywhere else in the world, for that matter. And for the majority of people in this world, magic and other realms are not and will never be possible. Unless you have any evidence to directly disprove Ms. Summerlin’s claims, Major, I strongly suggest you take your seat and keep your mouth shut. Understood?”
The man swallowed thickly, sniffed, and gave the woman a stiff nod. “Sir.” Then he sat, his fingers clawing the armrests of the chair. The protesting groan of the wood in his grip was loud enough for everyone to hear.
Cheyenne stared at the center of the table so she wouldn’t end up provoking him even more with the laugh threatening to burst out of her. Looks like everyone’s getting a taste of their own medicine today. And I get to be right in the middle of it.
“Now, may we continue?”
The halfling felt the woman’s gaze on her and nodded once. “Sure.”
The recording resumed. “Ms. Summerlin, are you currently harboring the magical fugitive L’zar Verdys in your home at the Pellerville Gables Apartments?”
Cheyenne glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely not.”
“Were you in any way involved in L’zar Verdys’ escape from Chateau D’rahl?”
“No.”
“Thank you. For the purposes of whatever future use this recording may serve, please state that everything you’ve told us this morning is, to the best of your knowledge, accurate and true.”
“It is.”
The woman folded her hands on the table and readjusted in her seat. “I’m inclined to believe you, Ms. Summerlin. Now, I’d like to move on to a slightly different subject. Tell us about that new portal on the Summerlin estate. That’s where you grew up if I’m not mistaken.”
“Yeah.” This’ll be easy. “I