The orc with a fistful of goblin ran a thick gray tongue over his top teeth, then glanced at his two companions, who’d done a piss-poor job as lookouts. “Take care of her.”
He snarled and almost lifted the goblin off his feet before pulling the store owner through the back and away from the half-drow intruder. The other two orcs who’d come to strongarm the business owner—one of them missing an eye, the other covered in mud-brown tattoos—slammed their fists into their opposite palms at the same time. Green light flared at the contact, and the orc behind her with the blue-skinned friend, whatever he was, stormed forward.
A full furnace blast of drow magic washed over her. “Let’s do this.”
The orc from behind let off a burst of magic at the same time Cheyenne dropped into a crouch. A spiraling red light with razor-sharp edges wheeled over her and cut a path between the two oncoming orcs before slicing into the far wall of the backroom and sending up a puff of plaster and drywall.
One-Eye and Tattoo barreled toward her, overturning the table between them.
Cheyenne launched black and purple sparks at the orc in the suit and caught him in the upper chest. He roared and staggered sideways as his blue associate slammed the back door shut. One-Eye flung shards of something green that reeked of burnt wiring toward her.
Rolling sideways, Cheyenne came to her feet, whipped her hand in a circle, and sent a crackling black orb at One-Eye. It hit the overturned table instead, destroying it in a rain of huge splinters.
“I don’t have it!” the goblin shouted from somewhere in the front.
Cheyenne jerked her head up at the sound. The tattooed orc bounded over a stack of supply crates and crashed into her, knocking her backward. They both toppled into the metal shelving unit, sending rolls of paper towels and boxes of lightbulbs onto the floor. With a shrieking bellow, the half-drow brought her elbow up against the side of the orc’s face.
One-Eye shot off a few hissing green charges at them both, but Cheyenne ducked aside. Tattoo wobbled on his feet and reached for her again, swiping with both hands and letting out a strangled growl. She sent her entire foot into the center of his broad chest and kicked him back. One-Eye’s magical attacks crashed into Tattoo’s back as purple and black energy hurtled from Cheyenne’s hands. Both orcs slammed into the ground against the opposite wall.
The non-orc with blue skin stumbled across the scattered paper towel rolls, then found his footing and made himself an open target. Cheyenne snarled and summoned black and purple power into both hands.
The blue guy pulled a gun from his hip and leveled it at her.
“Seriously?” Cheyenne cocked her head, her nostrils flaring. “What is it with you people and guns?”
“Let’s see if you can stop a bullet.” The blue magical breathed heavily, and Cheyenne picked up the sound of the three others in the building, all breathing faster than the two she’d rendered unconscious.
“You wanna try?” She didn’t look at the gun, didn’t look away from the orange eyes in that blue face. Professor Bergmann’s words came to her.
Put something in the jar.
Right.
The blue-skinned magical squeezed the trigger, and time slowed. Cheyenne heard the scrape of metal pulling back against metal and the slow hiss of the guy’s exhale. The chamber ignited behind the bullet just as the purple and black energy of her drow magic burst from her hand. She stepped sideways much faster than she’d realized she could, and then the world skipped to normal speed. The bullet left a hole in the wall behind where she’d just stood, while the blue guy screamed and doubled over as he dropped his gun and clutched his injured hand to his chest.
Cheyenne knew the orc in the suit had made it behind her. She heard air being sucked into his lungs and the press of his rubber-soled shoes against the linoleum floor. She dropped into another crouch and twisted around toward him. Black, snaking tendrils lashed from her fingertips and coiled around the orc’s ankles. Her hands clenched into fists and pulled, jerking the orc off his feet and sending him flying across the back room of the shop. He let loose a grunt of surprise before his head cracked against the doorway into the front, and he passed out.
Cheyenne stood and peered around.
From the next room, she overheard: “We made a deal, Radzu.”
“That didn’t include destroying my shop!”
Cheyenne crunched across the broken lightbulbs and slammed her fist into the side of the blue-skinned guy’s head. He dropped, still cradling his arm, and she kicked his gun under a shelving unit. She stepped over the smashed table and the scattered supplies, slipping into the front room with her skin on fire and more drow magic coalescing around her hands.
She came around the corner and saw the huge orc looming over the goblin owner, who was cowering in his office chair, obviously forced to sit by the orc leaning into his face. Cheyenne caught the glint of a knife pressed to the short goblin’s violet throat.
The shop owner caught sight of her and lifted a finger. “She wasn’t part of the deal, either.”
The orc jerked the blade away from the shop owner’s throat and turned. “No, she wasn’t.”
“I think we all agree the deal’s off,” Cheyenne said, spreading her arms. “Whatever it is.”
The squabbling magicals exchanged a confused glance, and the orc grunted. “She’s not one of mine.”
“Seeing as I just put four of your guys down for a nap in the back, it would suck if I was.” Cheyenne held up a finger. Everyone listened to the utter lack of noise. “Yeah. They’re out.”
“What do you want?” The orc raised his blade and pointed it at her, half in warning, half in invitation. “I don’t do business with drow.”
“You do now.” Cheyenne nodded at his weapon. “You can put that thing
