The Drow Prophecy: Goth Drow Unleashed™ Book Fourteen by Carr Martha & Anderle Michael

Author:Carr, Martha & Anderle, Michael
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2021-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Shit. Cheyenne turned the alarm’s brain-splitting volume down to a background drone and kept searching.

Ember leaned toward her and quietly asked, “What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong.” Cheyenne turned around and scanned the hallway into the kitchen, then the hallway to the front door. The orange light flashed brighter and lit an arrow in her vision that steadily grew larger and blinked furiously.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.”

Rhynehart stopped talking and looked up at them. “Am I boring you?”

Incoming threat detected. Arrival in 00:24.

The seconds counted down in Cheyenne’s vision, and the blinking orange arrow came into clearer focus as it moved up the far wall of the living room, turned into the ceiling, and moved slowly to the center of the living room and their little gathering at the table.

“Something’s coming.”

Rhynehart glared at her. “Just a feeling you have?”

“It’s in the fucking wall, Rhynehart. I can see it.” She pointed at the orange arrow in her vision, then summoned a crackling sphere of black drow energy. “If anyone brought anything useful in those crates, I’d get it out.”

Tate, Yurik, and Bhandi darted to the crates on the other side of the table without a word. Todd frowned at them as Jamal slowly lowered a panting, whining Tammy to the floor. “You guys jump to it ‘cause she says she sees shit in the walls?”

The crate’s locks clicked, and Bhandi flung open one of the lids. “Makes no sense if you haven’t been in the field with her, man.”

Yurik hauled one of the large black duffel bags onto the table and nodded at Todd. “This is yours, right?”

“Yeah.”

Tammy started barking wildly, growling and yapping and darting all over the place with nowhere to aim her warning.

Rhynehart spun and leaped to the table beside the couch on the other side of the room. A drawer slammed open, and he turned around again with pistols in both hands. “What the hell is it?”

“If I knew,” Cheyenne muttered, “I wouldn’t be standing here waiting for it to—”

The ceiling two feet away from the center of Rhynehart’s dining table erupted in a shower of drywall, dust, and chunks of plaster, and a violent spray of reeking sewage cut through the air between Bhandi and Jamal.

“What the fuck!” Bhandi leaped away from the spray. She swung her fell pistol up to the ceiling as a dull silver head burst from the hole. The troll squeezed off one shot before the war machine’s plated head darted toward her like a striking snake and knocked her backward. She slipped on the growing puddle of sewage and went down hard.

Rhynehart fired, but the bullet pinged off the machine’s metallic head and buried itself in the far wall of the living room in another spray of plaster.

“No bullets!” Cheyenne launched her energy sphere at the war machine and knocked the head sideways against the ceiling. “Seriously, you’re gonna kill one of us instead.”

“Then what the hell do you suggest?”

More water and sewage burst farther down the pipe in the ceiling, then an eight-foot section of drywall collapsed in the center of the room.

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