“Hey.” Tate’s laughing smile faded, and he nodded toward the other side of the tavern. “Don’t look now, but I think somebody’s got a problem.”
Bhandi immediately swiveled to the side in her chair and made a quick sweep of the other patrons.
“Goddammit, Bhandi, I said, don’t look.”
“Nah.” She waved off the rest of the bar and turned back to drop her elbow on the table. “You’re seeing things.”
The tingle grew stronger across Cheyenne’s shoulders, crawling back and forth. That’s what I’m feeling.
“I don’t think anyone cares about you, Bhandi.” Yurik glanced covertly over the halfling’s shoulder before tipping his face into his tankard. “They’re mean-mugging Cheyenne.”
“What?” Bhandi stared at the halfling now and nudged their new friend’s shoulder. “impressive. You didn’t even do anything.”
“You piss anyone off lately?” Tate asked.
Cheyenne glanced at him, loosening her grip on the tankard’s handle. “Are you serious?”
The tattooed troll nodded.
“Yeah, the list is pretty long. But I haven’t been here before, so I don’t know why.” Not the first time magicals have tracked me down, though.
“Why what?” Bhandi waved a hand in front of the halfling’s face. “Earth to Cheyenne. You can’t not finish that sentence.”
The halfling looked at the off-duty agents and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It might, though, if those guys decide to step it up a notch.” Yurik dipped his chin and stared right back at whoever it was. “So far, it’s just the death stare.”
“Yeah, well, it never actually killed anyone.” Cheyenne glanced at her grog and let go of the handle completely. Totally sober now. I think.
“It might if one of them was a raug.”
Cheyenne choked in surprise. “What?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tate had joined Yurik in the mean-eyed staring contest too. “A raug can strike you down just by looking at you the right way.”
The halfling muttered, “That would’ve been good to know.”
“What, before you went and had dinner with a raug, huh?” Bhandi chuckled. “Good one.”
“No, I didn’t have dinner with him. But he ate a bunch of…sticks?” Wrinkling her nose, Cheyenne shook her head and tried to shake the warning buzzing tingle off the back of her shoulders.
“For real?” Bhandi leaned toward her, the grog fumes pouring off her now almost as strong as they’d lifted from the fellwine. “You hung out with a raug?”
“Yeah, who just happened to be an Oracle.” Cheyenne stared at the table. Great. The tingle gets stronger, and I get a loose tongue.
“No shit? Hey.” Bhandi slapped the table. “Are you guys hearing this?”
“Not now, Bhandi.” Tate narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping into a warning growl.
“A damn raug. And you two boneheads don’t think that’s—”
“Shut up,” Yurik hissed.
“Okay, what the hell crawled into your—” The troll woman turned to look behind Cheyenne and sighed. “Shit.”
A shadow fell across Cheyenne and most of the table. The halfling didn’t turn around, but her fists clenched in her lap.
“Fancy seeing you here, mór úcare.”
Don’t know the voice. Definitely heard that name, though.
“Private table, asshole.” Tate glared at whatever magical stood behind Cheyenne, his fist curling tighter around the handle of his tankard.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” It came out as a slow, rumbling growl. “I’m here for the drow.”
“Not tonight, you aren’t.” Yurik pointed toward the other side of the bar, his yellow eyes flashing in the overhead lights. “Go on back to your buddies and finish off the night making good choices. Hell, have another round on me, and we’ll call it good.”
The looming magical behind Cheyenne leaned close enough for her to feel his breath on the back of her neck. “I’m talking to you, mór úcare. Show some manners at least, huh?”
She stared at the wall between Tate and Yurik. “Maybe if you brush your teeth first. Guess nobody told you that’s kind of a priority Earthside. Even when you’re breathing down someone’s neck.”
“You talk a lotta shit for someone who won’t turn around and face me.”
Slowly, the drow halfling lifted her hands and settled them on the table. Yurik cocked his head at her while the other off-duty agents stared at the asshole behind her. “You good?”
“I just chugged fellwine, man. I’m good.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cheyenne’s chair scooted back as she stood. The agents shifted in their seats, but she shook her head at them. “I’ll handle this.”
The magical behind her stepped back, his shadow clearing from the table, and the drow halfling turned to face him. Her gaze landed on the center of the guy’s chest, and she looked up slowly to see an ogre even taller and beefier than Jamal looming over her. It had to be an ogre.
The hulking magical sneered at her, his thick gray lower lip glistening with spit and maybe a little grog. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“You got somethin’ to say to me?” Cheyenne’s fists clenched by her sides again, but she waited. Keep the berserker down until you need it.
“Oh, I got plenty to say.” The ogre pressed one fist into his palm, his knuckles cracking like giant rocks smashing against each other. “Not the kinda conversation for mixed company, though.”
“Naw. Whatever you gotta say to me, you can say in front of my friends here.” She jerked her head back toward the table. “They’re cool.”
“We’re not, mór úcare. You see my friends over there? They’re not cool with you, either.”
Four other magicals stood from a table halfway across the bar. The halfling had to peer around the giant dude’s frame, which was at least twice as wide as her body.
“Goblin, orc, skaxen, troll. Huh.” She craned her neck back at the guy hunching over her. “Looks like you brought the whole rainbow with you tonight.”
“Almost.” One side of the ogre’s mouth lifted in another twitching sneer, revealing black-stained teeth. “We just need a little drow blackberry to add to the mix.”
Cheyenne snorted. “Are you talking about me? ‘Cause honestly, I don’t know if it was supposed
