She stepped out into the parking lot and let the door close behind her. If he had something to say, he should’ve said it. And now I’m talking about a complete stranger like we have a history. A familiar voice isn’t enough to go on. Focus.
For the entire walk back to her apartment, she repeated a ridiculous mantra about Bambi and the woods and keeping it together.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Pad Thai tasted like soggy cardboard with peanuts thrown in. Turned out she’d bought the only flavor of iced tea she didn’t like, but she drank it anyway. “I hate mint.”
Cheyenne drained the tea and wiped her mouth with the back of a hand. She slumped into the chair behind her computer. She wanted to pull up all the info Todd had returned to double-check that she was heading to the right place.
“Nope. I saw it the first time, and I’d be stupid to open that door. Anonymous creeper’s still on my trail.”
Cheyenne had a moment of inspiration. She pulled up YouTube and went for the most obnoxious laser-cat video she could find—terrible CG, loud, fake laser blasts, and obnoxious background music that mixed house music and reggae and death metal. She muted her speakers but set the videos to keep pulling the next best match for however long she left the window open. “That’s what he gets for tailing me.”
Rolling back in her chair, Cheyenne stretched her legs all the way out and spun from side to side, trying not to check her phone every two minutes. Half an hour. Then I can get the hell out of here and do something useful.
For half an hour, she practiced slipping in and out of her drow form on command. She tried to repeat using a quick spell between forms, but the third burst of sparks from her fingertips brought up interference on her monitor. The screen fizzled with a line of static. It cleared the moment she dropped the spell.
“Magical sparks and computers don’t play well. Huh. Should’ve expected that.”
She thought about trying Ember’s cell. She realized how unlikely it was that Ember would have a phone charger, anyway. Besides, Cheyenne didn’t have a bunch of time to talk. I’ll check in tomorrow.
For the last fifteen minutes, she went through her cabinets and tossed everything past its expiration date. Which was most of the mac ‘n cheese and a few cans of garbanzo beans.
The alarm she’d set for 10:20 p.m. played an irksome tune called Harp. Cheyenne snatched her phone and rushed out of her apartment.
Party time.
* * *
It took twenty-five minutes to get to the event center and another five to find a place to park that wasn’t along the side street and visible from the building. She ended up parking on a turnoff beside a landfill a mile and a half away, and now it was 10:52 p.m.
Cheyenne headed toward the event center on foot until she was far enough from her car that anyone who’d seen her get out of it couldn’t see her anymore—that is if anyone was hanging around a landfill for some strange reason. She brought up an image of Durg’s crooked tusks. Heat slid up her spine, and she took on her drow form. She nodded. Durg’s face was as effective as thinking about guns, which made sense, she supposed, since the two were associated in her mind.
After a glance up and down the street, the drow halfling took off running faster than anyone would have been able to see clearly. The tall weeds growing on the side of the road whipped after her as she streaked past in a blur of gray and black and white. She only had to stop once to catch her breath. By 10:58 p.m., she slowed outside the entry gates to the event center parking lot.
A sharp crack split the air when she slowed, and the open gate creaked behind her. She stuck out a hand to stop it from moving and hurried out of the lamplight, opting to take the long way around through the dirt and grass. She counted over a dozen cars parked in the lot, so there were plenty of people inside.
There’s gotta be someone in there who thinks fashionably late is still cool.
Cheyenne reached the side of the event center in the dark and looked for a door. She didn’t find one until she’d skirted the wall all the way near the back, and someone had set the handle so it didn’t lock behind anyone passing through it.
You’d think these guys would be a little better at security. Or common sense.
Before she opened the door, she pressed her hand against the wall and let her mind expand through the metal and into the back of the event center. The shapes of glowing bodies lighting up in her mind’s eye were blurry and a little muted, which meant a few walls and rooms were between the backdoor and the clandestine hangout for magical crime lords. As far as she could tell, this little trick of hers hadn’t steered her wrong yet—there wasn’t anyone watching the back of the building.
Not sure it’s supposed to be this easy, but I’ll take it.
The drow halfling slipped inside and guided the door into place to keep things quiet. Muffled voices came from farther down the hall. In drow form, her hearing was heightened enough that they could be on the opposite side of the building. Cheyenne crept down the hall and crouched behind a trashcan first, then behind boxes of paper cups and plastic lids. She didn’t hear anyone following her, and the tone of the conversation hadn’t changed since she’d stepped inside.
So far, so good.
When she came to the closest entrance into the center arena, broken down to the bare floors and a few tables and chairs pushed to the sides of the
