The guy shrugged, closed his beady eyes, popped the last bit of pinecone into his mouth, and buried himself in the pile of leaves again.
Can’t keep calling them trash-eaters. With a snort, she headed for her car parked at the curb, searching the empty street just in case. He’s right, though. Bargaining chips with both sides now. Sir and Corian. When I find some kinda leverage with L’zar, I’ll really have the upper hand.
When she slid behind the wheel of her Focus and dropped her backpack on the passenger seat, a huge yawn broke free. Cheyenne shook her head quickly, wiped the one tear squeezing out of her eye, and started the car. Can’t sleep yet.
She buckled up and turned on the radio. The beginning of Metallica’s Enter Sandman filled the car, and she turned the volume up as loud as it would go before heading back to her apartment.
Her black Vans thumped against the hall closet by the front door, and Cheyenne shuffled through her apartment. Her keyring hit the counter on the half-wall with a clink, and her backpack slid off her shoulder onto the floor. Rolling her neck from side to side, the halfling grimaced and rubbed her chest just below her collarbone. Man, he really got me.
She unzipped her jacket and paused when a muffled buzz came from one of the outside pockets. Rolling her eyes, she jammed her hand in there and pulled out the FRoE burner phone. “There better be a good reason you’re calling me after midnight on a Monday.”
“Well, I didn’t call just to shoot the shit, halfling.” Sir cleared his throat on the other line. “How you doin’?”
“Peachy. Best day of my life.”
“Okay, don’t break into song or anything. Heads-up about our next op. Tomorrow.”
“Sure. I’m free after lunch.”
“Nope. You’ll be meeting up with a team at oh-eight-hundred. Time-sensitive thing, kid. I know you’re trying to have a life and everything, but this needs to happen ASAP, and ASAP means whenever I say we’re ready to go.”
Cheyenne took a deep breath and forced her fingers to loosen up around the flip phone. “I can’t keep missing class—”
“Yeah, you can. Leave a paper trail that says you showed up. That’ll be a cakewalk for you. What we’re doing is way more important. We’re going after the second distribution center for the black-magic crap still spreading through the state like goddamn wildfire.”
With a sigh, the halfling closed her eyes. “Fine. I’ll be there. I assume you’ll text me another address.”
“Look at that—you’re learning how to play the game. Listen, this op is gonna make the magical cult in the church look like kindergarten story time. After you help us bag these assholes, I’ll let you cash it in for another visit with L’zar.”
“I already said I’ll do it.”
“Good. Just wanna make sure you know what you’re getting out of it. Get some sleep. You sound like my grandma when she’s off her meds.”
Cheyenne snapped the phone shut and glared at it. Someone has to tell him about those analogies.
She jammed the phone back into her pocket and stripped off the black canvas jacket. It thumped to the carpet with a little jingle of all the extra silver buttons, and the halfling shuffled through her apartment toward the bedroom. The splintered door made her roll her eyes before she nudged it open, shrugging out of her clothes on her way to the bed. The drow halfling set her cell phone on the nightstand and crawled under the sheets.
She lay there on her side, staring at the sliding door of her closet. They’re just dreams. Suck it up. Cheyenne shut her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
She gave herself enough time the next morning to stop by the gas station down the street for a quick pick-me-up and something like breakfast. When she set the twenty-ounce energy drink and the floppy croissant breakfast sandwich down on the counter, she tried to smile.
“Woah. Why so serious?” Katie laughed and rang up the halfling’s breakfast. “Just kidding. Joker’s got nothing on you. Rough night?”
“Kinda.” Cheyenne tapped her fingers on the counter and shifted her weight. “I’ll get over it. How’ve you been?”
“Still no guns pointed at my face, so I can’t complain too much.”
“Hey, anything’s better than being robbed at gunpoint, right?”
The clerk shrugged and swiped her hair away from her face before pointing at the card reader. “Still having weird dreams about it, though.”
“Oh, yeah? Must be something goin’ ‘round then.” And I caught the worst strain of weird dream there is. Cheyenne pulled out her debit card and shoved it into the card reader.
“It’s crazy. You’d think I’d stop dreaming about that night by now, right? It’s been, like, two weeks.”
“Sometimes things hang on a little longer.” She punched in her pin and waited for the annoying beep. “You’ll get through it.”
“I hope so. My sister’s really into dream interpretation, right?” Katie sniffed and opened a small plastic bag for her customer’s things. “I told her about mine, and she’s totally stumped.”
The halfling chuckled. “Not that hard to figure out why you’re dreaming about a robbery. Seeing as you were literally almost robbed.”
“Not that part.” The clerk playfully rolled her eyes. “I know I’m reliving the whole thing, except in my dreams, there’s this scary-looking chick with white hair and really dark skin. I mean, like, almost purple. And weird…” Katie gestured toward her own ears, “pointy ears.”
“What?” Cheyenne forced out a laugh.
“Right? It’s so freakin’ strange. I don’t even know where my brain came up with that.”
“Not like it could be anything you saw, though, right? I mean, besides the obvious.” The halfling shrugged. “And didn’t you kinda pass out anyway?”
Katie paused for just a second before sliding the bag across the counter. “How did you know I passed out?”
Shit. Cheyenne grabbed the handles of the plastic bag. “I think the asshole who works the nightshift now said something about it. Dude
