“Okay. I’d be totally happy with just one normal day. If nothing else goes right, I have to be there for Em, so don’t stir up any shit.”
Cheyenne nodded at herself, brushed her hair over her shoulders, and stepped back through her apartment to gather her stuff. She kicked aside the shredded black jacket and opened the closet door. Wrinkling her nose, she shoved the last few jackets aside and settled instead on a baggy black zip-up sweater with a hand throwing devil horns printed on the back. Shrugging it on, she smirked and zipped it up all the way. Mom was cool with the Goth thing, but she hated this hoodie. Comfier than I remember.
She grabbed her keys, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and scanned her small apartment one more time. Everything’s normal. Just let it go.
Then she shoved on her black Vans and headed out the door to start her day. When she closed the apartment door behind her, though, the feeling of something being not quite right was justified.
“What the hell?”
Under the apartment number tacked to her front door was a blood-red symbol that hadn’t been there before. It looked like a four-pointed star, the points stretched long into sharp ends. A thick drop of paint had collected at the bottom point, though it had crusted around the edges and wasn’t running down the wood anymore.
Grimacing, Cheyenne leaned closer and sniffed. Not paint. That’s blood.
“Shit.” She glanced down the hall and paused, her drow hearing ready to pick up any sound of someone running away. Or toward her. The hall was empty and silent. “The last thing I need is some crazy marking my door for...whatever.”
She studied the four-pointed star painted in blood and shook her head. I’d love to know what the hell this symbol means.
The door three apartments down squeaked when the doorknob turned, then the sound of her neighbors R’mahr and Yadje arguing about something spilled out into the hall. Cheyenne didn’t even think about it before swiping the sleeve of her hoody across the bloody symbol and hissed when it smeared across the door. The brick-red smudge on her black sleeve wasn’t any better, and she stopped herself from wiping it on her black cargo pants before dropping into a crouch and trying to wipe it off on the stained carpet of the hallway.
That’s one benefit of not updating this crappy place since the ‘80s.
“Cheyenne!”
The halfling leaped to her feet and turned, quickly slipping her hand through the strap of her backpack to hide the smudge of blood soaking into the sleeve. “Morning.”
“She’s here,” R’mahr said, turning back to shoot his wife an I-told-you-so glance.
“She lives here, R’mahr.” Yadje jostled her husband aside before poking her head out into the hall. Long scarlet braids fell over her shoulder and dangled beside the troll woman’s violet cheeks. “We were a little worried about you.”
Cheyenne forced herself to smile and headed down the hall. “Worried about me? I appreciate it, but everything’s fine.”
“Well, we missed you yesterday.” R’mahr smiled in a poor attempt to hide his disappointment. “You know, we were hoping you’d come to Peridosh with us last night.”
“Oh, right.” The halfling paused in front of their door. I knew I’d forgotten something. “I’m sorry, guys. I got held up. Maybe next time, huh?”
“Yes. Next time. We go every Wednesday, don’t forget.” R’mahr bobbed his head up and down, grinning at her now as she passed their front door.
“We might make another trip sooner than that,” Yadje added, then glanced over her shoulder when a loud, metallic rattle filled the apartment behind her. “Bryl, I told you to keep an eye on that pot. It’s boiling over.”
“I’ll get it,” their daughter shouted.
The troll woman shook her head with a forced smile and looked back up at Cheyenne with deep scarlet eyes. “Apparently, Bryl forgot to grab the most important ingredient from the potionmaster last night. I’m not sure I can go another week listening to that child whine about not having had enough time last night to find it. If we end up going later this week, Cheyenne, would you like to come?”
The halfling paused again just past the troll family’s front door now and turned halfway around. “Yeah, maybe. Just let me know when, and we’ll figure it out.”
“Excellent, yes.” R’mahr’s grin widened even more, and he stepped out into the hall. “Oh, and if you—”
“Sorry, I really do have to get going. Lots of stuff to do today. We can talk about it later.”
“Okay, uh…”
“Bye, Cheyenne!” Yadje said through the door before tugging her husband back inside their apartment.
The halfling chuckled a little as she pushed open the door to the stairwell. Now I’m gonna have to make up for bailing on my biggest fans.
The morning air was a little crisp but not nearly as cold as the night before. Taking a deep breath, Cheyenne hurried outside across the parking lot. I know the morning’s not gonna go by quickly, but that doesn’t stop me from hoping.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Not your car, buddy!”
The guy crouching beside the rear door of her Focus jolted and spun on his heel.
“What the hell are you doing?”
A shrieking giggle burst from the guy’s mouth before he scampered across the parking lot, his sneakers pounding on the asphalt. Cheyenne took off after him and reached him quickly enough, even without her drow speed. She grabbed him by the back of the jacket and jerked him sideways as he ran onto the open grass outside the apartment complex. The guy spilled across the grass with a thump, and the halfling leaped after him.
Her knees skidded across the grass, and she seized the front of his shirt with both hands, shaking him a little to get his attention. Another insane giggle escaped him as his head whipped back and forth.
“You picked the wrong car to break into,” she seethed. Then she saw the bull’s head pendant dangling around his neck. Shit. More
