When she felt Cheyenne standing there behind her, Mattie slowly turned away from her desk and raised her eyebrows. “I’ll send you an email if I hear back from him.”
“No problem.” They stared at each other again.
“Is there something else you want to say, or…” The professor spread her arms, looking at the drow halfling like Cheyenne had just revealed a troll side, too.
“Yeah. Know anything about surprise magic?”
Mattie’s gaze fell to her student’s shoulder and the not-quite-oozing holes in it. “Did you surprise your shoulder?”
“No, someone else had an issue with my shoulder. And I’m pretty sure that falls into the category of things you told me not to tell you.” Cheyenne turned toward the door to get those two holes out from under her professor’s scrutiny. “I’m talking about magic you didn’t know you had but can somehow use at random times.”
“Huh. No, I can’t say I know a whole lot about that. Or even a little.” Mattie’s frown as she cocked her head made the half-drow feel like an idiot for even asking. “What can you do?”
“Who knows? Some kinda shield, I think. I hardly remember it and have no idea how to pull it back up when I want. Not that important, I guess.”
“Well, it probably is.” The professor let out a dry laugh. “And I wish I could help. Maybe if you had another drow who could walk you through the process, those answers wouldn’t be so hard to find.”
Cheyenne took a deep breath. “You know any other drow?”
“Nope.”
“Okay. Worth a shot.” Clapping her hands, the halfling nodded and headed toward the door. “Email me that Raug’s info. Don’t forget.”
“Top of my list, kid.”
“Right.” As she opened the office door, Cheyenne looked over her shoulder and added, “Good luck not leaking any more magic, huh?”
Mattie shot her a sarcastic glare and folded her arms. “I think I got the hang of it. Thanks for the well-wishes.”
“Yep. Just me in my infinite wisdom.” With a thumbs-up, Cheyenne opened the door and stepped out into the empty hallway. Mattie didn’t ask her to close the door again, so she didn’t. She headed back down the hall, wondering the hell kind of messages a Nightstalker graduate professor would be getting from the other side of the Border that had Mattie so confused about what the half-drow had been up to.
If Mattie’s her real name. Either she’s got an imaginary friend named Maleshi, or she was talking to herself and let more than a little magic slip out. You think you know a person…
Before she reached the doors out of the Computer Sciences building, her cell phone rang in the front pocket of her backpack. She shrugged off her pack and dropped into a squat to get to the thing on time. The sight of that stupid FRoE burner phone next to her personal smartphone made her grimace.
But seeing Ember’s name on her screen made all that crap disappear. Cheyenne accepted the call. “Hey, Em. What’s up?”
A sharp, strained breath came over the line, followed by a long, shuddering sigh. “Hey. You busy?”
Ember had definitely been crying. She probably still was, based on the three words she’d gotten out.
“I’m not doing anything,” Cheyenne replied. “What’s going on?”
“Can you…” A gross, wet sniff filled the halfling’s ear. “Oh, man. Can you come by the hospital? I just really… Uh, I need somebody to hang out with me for a while.”
“What happened?”
“I’m fine, Cheyenne. I mean, no, I’m not fine. Can I just—” Ember blew her nose with a long, grating honk. “Can we talk about it when you get here?”
“Definitely. I’ll leave right now.”
“Thanks.”
The line went dead, and Cheyenne frowned at her phone. She hadn’t heard Ember cry like that since freshman year, and that time, the girl hadn’t been lying in a hospital bed with a spinal injury from a gunshot wound.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Cheyenne almost ran down the hallway of the surgical recovery ward at VCU Medical Center toward Room 317. She couldn’t even begin to guess why Ember was so upset—not because her friend didn’t have a good reason for it but because she almost had too many.
Some of the nurses gave the drow halfling fleeting glances as she passed them in the hall. One of them recognized her and smiled. One of them looked like she wanted to make it illegal for anyone in all black with dangling chains and piercings to even step foot inside the hospital.
And that’s why I don’t do hospitals.
The door to Room 317 was cracked open, but Cheyenne knocked politely anyway before stepping inside. Fortunately, Ember was alone in the room, so at least it wasn’t an awkward “knock without waiting for a response” situation. She sat propped up against the elevated hospital bed, pillows and tissues strewn around her. Her cell phone was beside a faded-yellow plastic cup of water and a pitcher on the rolling bedside table, and her damp hair was clinging to Ember’s wet cheeks, forehead, and neck.
“Hey.” Cheyenne slipped off her backpack and set it gently against the wall below the window.
“Hi.” Ember blew her nose again and thumped her head against the pillow behind her. The tissue toppled from her hand to join the others scattered across the thin sheets over her legs and the floor.
Without a word, Cheyenne grabbed the tiny trashcan a hospital staffer thought it was a good idea to stick by the desk no one ever used instead of near the bed with the patient in it. She brought it with her to the highly uncomfortable armchair beside Ember’s bed, set it down, and gave her friend a sympathetic frown. “Want a hug or something?”
Ember’s laugh lasted only a second before wilting into not quite a sob. The half-drow didn’t need any more of a reply than that, so she leaned forward and wrapped Ember
