“Oh, man. Yeah, he does.” Katie rolled her eyes and let out a long sigh. “Whatever. I’m just glad I got switched to working mornings. It just feels safer. Wish I could figure out what the dream’s about, though.”
“Tell her to look up ‘Keebler Elf’ or something.” The clerk burst out laughing as Cheyenne turned away from the register.
“Want your receipt?”
“Nope. Thanks.”
“Okay, see ya later.”
The halfling pressed her hip against the door, making the little electric bell chime over the checkout counter. Cheyenne stormed back toward her car and dropped the plastic bag on the seat. Almost screwed myself on that one. I thought she didn’t see me that night.
With a grimace, she shook her head and pulled out the breakfast sandwich. The Focus coughed to life when she started it, then she was heading downtown with the floppy, soggy croissant spilling gas-station egg all over her lap.
Halfway to the address Sir had texted her, she glanced down at the GPS on her phone again and frowned. Borderlands said the other warehouse was in South Richmond, not the West End. Lifting her knee against the bottom of the steering wheel, she reached for the energy drink and opened it with a sharp crack. Then her other hand clamped down on the steering wheel, and she watched the road with her head turned to take long gulps.
I’ll figure it out.
The address took her to a closed-down strip mall, half the windows boarded up and a huge sign at the front of the parking lot that said, Closed for Renovation.
The only other car in the parking lot was the black Jeep, and Rhynehart was leaning against the hood. She parked her car and downed the rest of the energy drink before getting out. “Does Sir ever show up to these things, or does he not wanna break a nail or something?”
The FRoE agent looked her up and down over his folded arms. “He’s got his job, and we’ve got ours. Who pulled you into a food fight?”
Cheyenne glanced down and brushed the clumpy bits of overcooked egg and the soggy croissant crumbs off her black t-shirt and black pants. “Me, I guess.”
“Huh. Maybe leave your eating problems at home.”
She shot him a warning glance. “Not funny.”
Rhynehart chuckled and stepped around the front of the Jeep to jump in. Cheyenne slipped into the passenger seat, and he took off across the parking lot before she could buckle her seatbelt.
“I thought this was a bigger deal than the church.”
“Oh, yeah. A lot bigger.”
She frowned at him. “So why are you the only FRoE agent I’m looking at right now?”
“Aw, come on, rookie. Don’t you believe in me?”
“Not when you sent me into Q’orr’s house because you couldn’t take care of him yourself.”
He glanced at her for a second and shook his head. “Relax. I have backup.”
“I don’t count…woah!” Her hand shot up to grab the oh-shit handle above the door as the Jeep took a sharp right turn around the end of the strip mall. “Hey, man. I chugged a huge energy drink on the way here, and I still managed to drive like a sane person.”
“Boy, somebody’s uptight this morning, huh?” With another chuckle, Rhynehart steered around toward the back and slowed down. “And don’t flatter yourself, rookie. That’s the backup.”
“Woah.”
Five black Humvees were parked in a half-circle behind the strip mall. Almost two dozen FRoE operatives in black fatigues leaned against the vehicles, talking to each other, checking their weapons, slipping on dampening vests. They all looked up and straightened a little when the black Jeep slowed to a stop just in front of them.
The halfling blinked at the operatives and cocked her head. “If anyone had told me about the tailgating party, I would’ve brought something.”
“Yeah, well, it’s over now. Come on.” He jumped out of the Jeep and gave the hood a quick thump as he headed toward the rest of his team.
Cheyenne closed the door and followed him.
“Look who decided to show up?” One of the agents reinserted whatever kind of magazine was necessary for a fell rifle and nodded at her.
“Hey, I got here on time.”
Low laughter rumbled through the team. Jamal stepped around the last vehicle in line, his huge gray mouth open in a smile. “You’re only on time if you’re early.”
The halfling scowled at him. The ogre ignored her warning look completely before nudging his meaty fist into her shoulder as he walked past.
“Yeah, and showin’ up on time means you’re late.” A woman with a black bandana tied around her head jerked the straps of her dampening vest tighter with a little chuckle.
Cheyenne swept her gaze over the agents. “What happens if you’re late, then?”
“You’re dead,” another agent shouted, followed by one more round of laughter.
“We’ve been here for twenty minutes.” The troll woman Cheyenne recognized from her first messed-up visit to the common room in the FRoE compound slipped a fell pistol back into the holster at her hip and spread her arms. “What gives?”
The halfling clenched her jaw and shot Rhynehart a sidelong glance. “He told me to be here at eight.”
“And you got here at seven fifty-five.” Rhynehart smacked her arm with the back of his hand, then stopped when she stepped away and glared at him. “No touching. Right. Sorry. Look, these peons talk a lotta shit, rookie. Don’t worry about it.”
“Says the messenger boy for HQ.” Yurik shut the back door of the closest Humvee and turned toward Rhynehart with a smirk. Then the muscular goblin’s gaze settled on Cheyenne, and he frowned. “You look really familiar.”
The drow halfling shot an irritated look at Rhynehart, who just shrugged. She summoned up the heat of her magic at the base of her spine and slipped into drow form. “Ring any bells?”
“Oh, yeah.” Yurik grinned, the huge metal ring through his nose flashing in the morning sun. “Thought I was seeing things. Hey, Payton!”
“What the hell do you want?” The shorter goblin hefted a massive fell
