With her next deep breath, she realized that prickling sensation on the back of her neck was gone. The watchful eyes were gone.
The engine turned over in her Focus, and she headed down the side street toward the edge of this mostly abandoned industrial area of Richmond. Apparently, magicals had figured out how to take over some of the places nobody else wanted. As long as that kept working out for everyone, she didn’t have a preference one way or the other.
Right when she turned back on the freeway to head toward downtown Richmond and her apartment complex, a loud buzz came from the passenger seat. With a sigh, she unzipped the front pocket and whipped out the vibrating burner phone. “Here we go.”
She flipped it open with one hand and put it to her ear. “What?”
“Very nice, rookie. You’re already answering the phone like a pissed-off pro.” It was Rhynehart this time.
“I’m a quick study. What do you want?”
“Sir told me he gave you a heads up about another little operation tonight. We’re ready to head out, so where do you want me to pick you up?”
She rolled her eyes and glanced at the signs coming up on the freeway. “Just meet me at the mall again.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. That’s where I’m heading, so if you wanna pick me up, get your ass to the mall.”
Rhynehart barked a laugh, making her jerk the phone away from her ear. “You really are starting to sound just like one of us, rookie. Same place I dropped you off the other day, then. Twenty minutes.”
“Great.” It came out flat and uninterested—exactly the way she meant it. She closed the phone and dropped it onto the passenger seat.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Cheyenne stood at the curb in front of the strip mall, right where Rhynehart had dropped her off the last time she hadn’t wanted to meet him anywhere that wasn’t completely public. With her hands shoved down in her pockets, she didn’t move until the black FRoE Jeep had pulled up beside her. Then she waited even longer for Rhynehart to get the hint. He rolled his eyes and leaned over to open the passenger-side door and push it open for her.
Cheyenne stepped into the Jeep and shut the door without looking at the FRoE operative, who might at one point have become her trainer for like a day. Before he told a troll healer on Rez 38 to jam a tracking device into her shoulder wound and call it healing.
Rhynehart smirked at her. “You want me to buckle your seatbelt for you too?”
“Shut up.” She snatched the buckle behind her shoulder, grimacing at her aching upper arm, and slammed it into place across her lap.
“You’re in a good mood.” The operative pulled the Jeep slowly out of the parking lot, headed who knew where. “Seeing me again get your drow side all hot and bothered?”
The halfling let her irritation and anger completely take over as she slipped quickly into her drow form. Rhynehart didn’t flinch, even when she opened her hand and brought up a thicker spray of purple sparks than was strictly necessary. She finally tilted her head toward him and gave him a blank stare. “This kinda hot. That’s what you meant, right?”
“I’m just busting your balls, rookie. Put that away and keep it together, huh?”
The sparks went out, Cheyenne slipped out of the dark skin, white hair, pointy ears, and glowing golden eyes, and the Jeep fell silent. Unfortunately for her, that only lasted for about five minutes.
“Okay. Brief on what we’re up against tonight. Remember that Skaxen asshole whipping up all the black-magic potions spreading through the state and killing a bunch of magical kids?”
Cheyenne snorted. “Good ol’ Q’orr.”
He glanced at her just long enough for another smirk, then returned his attention to his driving. “We found one of his distribution sites. Seeing how his handiwork melted his brain, I don’t think the Skaxen was smart enough to be concerned about the bigger picture. He just got his rocks off making the shit. We still haven’t caught the dirtbags who were smuggling all those potions and charms off Rez 38, but a warehouse with a stockpile is the next best thing, right?”
With raised eyebrows, the halfling turned more to study the operative’s face. “Distribution center for the black magic potions?”
Rhynehart whistled. “I’m hearing a goddamn echo in here. What gives?”
She rolled her eyes and dropped her head back against the headrest. Kind of a cheap trick for the FRoE to go into the Borderlands forum to scour through the topics looking for their next mission. They were supposed to have a handle on things.
After a few seconds of silence, she shot him a sideways glance. “This distribution center doesn’t happen to be in Carytown, does it?”
Rhynehart did a double-take, then huffed out a laugh. “Where’d you get that information?”
“I thought you people already figured out that I’m just that good at finding information I want.”
“Ha. Was that supposed to include high-security information? Wait, don’t answer that. Just tell me how you found out.”
She cocked her head. “Oh, I don’t know. Just something a guardian shared with me.”
“What?”
“You know, Third Quarter Projections and everything. Real dark stuff.” The halfling watched his reaction, waiting for him to give something away.
Rhynehart just snorted and shook his head. “You get your head bashed in one too many times in the last two days?”
“Like you’d care if I did.”
“You are talking batshit crazy, rookie. Forget I asked.” He puffed out a laugh again, still shaking his head, and smirked at the road.
He’s either a better liar than I thought, or he has no idea what I’m talking about.
The next time she slipped onto the dark web to do a little window shopping on the Borderlands forum, she’d keep an eye out for any avatar names only a FRoE imagination could come up with. Judging by the way
