She rolled up to the window and gave the barista a weak smile.
“Got your coffee right here. You didn’t want cream or sugar?”
“No. Thanks.” Cheyenne stuck her hand in her jacket pocket and groaned. Other jacket. “Sorry. Hold on.”
Reaching into the front pocket of her backpack, she felt around for some change just as one of the phones in there started buzzing. Whoever it is can wait. She pulled out a wad of bills, fumbled through it for a five, and handed it to her.
“One of those mornings, huh?” The barista smiled and took the halfling’s money.
“Yeah. That’s why I need coffee.”
The girl handed down a huge paper cup and shot Cheyenne an even bigger smile. “Let me get your change.”
“Just keep it.” Without waiting for a reply, the halfling shifted into drive and took off out of the parking lot before she got held up by fifty cars on the road instead of by a woman ordering fifty coffee drinks. She sipped the coffee as she headed toward the VCU campus and smacked her lips. Okay, fine. Better than the gas station.
She set it in the cupholder to strap on her seatbelt again, then glanced back at the stuff she’d seized from the imp, which shouldn’t have been left anywhere. What am I gonna do with those?
Chapter Thirty-One
Cheyenne made it to the Computer Sciences building for her first Wednesday graduate class at quarter past eight in the morning. Plenty of time for a pit stop.
The minute she stepped into the one-person bathroom down the hall, she hung her backpack up on the door hook and turned to face the mirror. “What happened?”
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pulled up all the images she could of guns and firing weapons. Nothing.
“Come on!” She slapped her lower back, waiting for the flare to kick into gear. Then she looked up at her reflection, her nostrils flaring, and thought of Ember falling onto the cement in the skatepark. The halfling gritted her teeth and pulled up everything she felt from the night two weeks ago until her face reddened and she saw a vein popping out on her forehead. Her breath burst out of her, and she slammed her hands on the edge of the sink. There’s no way that troll punched the drow right out of my kidney. Right?
Breathing heavily, she gave herself one more solid stare in the mirror, then gave up. Cheyenne unzipped the front pocket of her backpack and pulled out both phones. Her personal cell phone didn’t have any missed notifications, and she rolled her eyes before slipping it back into the open pocket and flipping open the burner phone. Just one unread text from Rhynehart’s number.
Meeting at the diner at 15:00. We need your brain on this.
The next line had the address for the diner, and Cheyenne sent a text which only said, Fine. Then she shut the phone, dropped it into the pocket, and grabbed her backpack to head to class. I can do three o’clock. I can’t keep missing classes.
Her Advanced Social Network Analysis and Security professor didn’t seem to notice that Cheyenne had made it to two consecutive classes in a row this week. He went on and on about all the different viruses and malware one could use to hack into someone else’s social media accounts, followed by a list of known scams used over the last decade to lure unsuspecting users into giving up their private information. The halfling’s eyes drooped as she sank lower in her chair by the minute, and no one seemed to notice that, either.
Her other two classes for the day weren’t any different. The only notable difference was the short, mousy girl even smaller than Cheyenne staring at her necklace during her Theory of Programming Languages class like she’d never seen jewelry before. Cheyenne stared right back at her, waiting for those wide, blinking eyes to look up and see that the halfling noticed. But they didn’t. Everyone’s busy staring, and it’s not even at the Goth thing.
The last class let out at one-thirty in the afternoon with Professor Dawley finished shouting out some assignment Cheyenne didn’t hear. The rustling and shuffling of ten students gathering their things jolted her out of her half-conscious stupor, and she grimaced at the tightness in her back. Her bruised ribs cried out when she bumped the edge of the long desk before standing up, but she just gritted her teeth against the pain with a long, slow sigh.
Professor Dawley blinked at her and nodded. “See you on Friday.”
Cheyenne lifted a hand in a half-assed wave and slung her backpack over her shoulder. “Yep.”
Great. Now she’ll notice if I don’t show up.
She moved quickly down the hall, glancing at all the other students filtering through the building and heading to and from their other classes. A chill raced across her back, but it wasn’t the magical kind. That’s a serious problem.
Mattie Bergmann’s office door was open as usual when Cheyenne showed up just before 2:00 p.m. The halfling walked in, shut the door behind her, and went straight to the desk.
“You forgot your usual knock,” Mattie said, looking the halfling up and down. “And you look awful.”
“Rough night. Bad dreams. Weird morning. And then I sat through all my classes, so that didn’t help.” Cheyenne dropped her backpack on the floor and smoothed her hair back from her face with both hands. “I have a problem.”
Mattie leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “I don’t think I could pin it down if you gave me ten guesses. Unless it’s those pants.”
“No, I’m serious. Is there…” The halfling closed her eyes. “Is there any way to lose your magic?”
The professor let out a chuckle and looked confused, her green eyes scanning Cheyenne’s face. “Not unless you were cursed or poisoned. Or almost killed.”
“What about punched?”
Mattie barked out a laugh, then clamped a hand over her mouth and took a deep
