The guy saw her staring at his pendant and guffawed in her face.
She grimaced and turned briefly away. “Dude, ever heard of mouthwash?”
“Nothing else matters.” The guy’s eyes were wide and glassy, spit flying from his lips as he grinned like a madman at the drow halfling.
“Trust me, your bad breath matters.” Cheyenne shook him again. “What the hell do you people want from me, huh? Did you leave that crappy symbol on my door, too?”
The guy hyperventilated, still grinning as he studied the half-drow who was close to punching him unconscious. “You don’t belong here, mór úcare,” he muttered. “She’s calling you back, you know. We can all feel it. Stop fighting, huh? Blood bonds with blood.”
“Okay, quit the cryptic bullshit and tell me something I can use.” Cheyenne pulled her hand back and meant to slip into drow mode, but of course, nothing happened. This pendant’s really cramping my style. When the crazy human-looking magical shrieked with laughter again, the halfling shook him so hard that he fell backward, and she almost went over right on top of him. “Start talking, asshole. If I don’t belong here, tell me why!”
A massive explosion ripped through the air behind her. Cheyenne whirled around, forgetting the cackling madman on the ground, and saw a pillar of flame, thick smoke, and twisted metal where her beat-up Focus had been. Three car alarms went off at the same time, and the rear door from the driver’s side clattered to the asphalt.
“She’s got your scent!” the guy shrieked, slipping away from the halfling and scrambling to his feet. “Blood’s the only tie you have now, mór úcare. And when she finds you—” He cackled again and took off across the grass on wobbly legs.
Cheyenne looked over her shoulder to see him disappear around the corner of another apartment complex and clenched her eyes shut. Literally let him slip through my fingers. Those guys are relentless.
Pushing to her feet, she walked slowly off the grass until the heat of her flaming car made her stop in her tracks. She chewed her lower lip and slid her backpack off one shoulder to pull her cell phone from the front pocket. People stepped slowly out of the apartment complex to see what all the noise was about, and Cheyenne lifted her chin as she made the call.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“Uh, my car just exploded.”
Chapter Forty-One
The halfling’s Ford Focus had settled into smoldering remains by the time the Richmond PD arrived. The dispatcher sent two squad cars, and Cheyenne quirked her lips in irritation when all four officers stepped out of their cars.
“Is this your car, ma’am?”
“Yeah.” The halfling glanced from one officer to the next. “I’ll start by saying I didn’t blow up my own car, and I don’t know who did, so you can cut those questions out.”
The officer standing beside her looked up as the firetruck rolled into the parking lot. “What’s your name?”
“Cheyenne.”
“Do you have any ID on you, Cheyenne?”
She slipped her backpack off her shoulders again and lowered it to the ground. “My wallet’s in my backpack.”
“Go ahead and grab it.”
As she rummaged through the front pocket, a firefighter headed toward her car with a portable fire extinguisher and unleashed what looked like the whole thing onto what few flames remained. The white foamed sprayed with a loud rush, and the other officers chuckled.
Cheyenne finally found her wallet and stood, slipping her ID out of the clear plastic slot. She handed it over with a deadpan stare and waited for the officer’s reaction. Yep. There it is. Wide eyes. Confusion. Better believe you’re staring at Bianca Summerlin’s daughter, Mr. Policeman.
“Well, Ms. Summerlin—”
“Cheyenne. Ms. Summerlin’s my mom.” She tried not to smirk when the officer sputtered a little and cleared his throat.
“Right.” He turned around again to eye the foam-splattered wreckage that was kind of shaped like a Ford Focus. “Any idea how this happened?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Hey, Higgins.” The tall, skinny officer crouched on their side of the ruined car and pointed at the rear wheel well. “What does that look like to you?”
The female officer beside him cocked her head. “Somebody got really cute with a homemade bomb is what it looks like.”
“Dammit. Okay, I’ll call it in to forensics.”
“Do you know anyone who would want to hurt you by planting an explosive device under your car?”
A bunch of crazy magical assholes from a world you’ve never heard of. “Not really.”
“You get on anyone’s bad side lately?”
It took all her willpower not to start laughing. “I’m not on anyone’s side, Officer. Good or bad. I came out to my car to head to class.” Cheyenne nudged her backpack with her shoe. “Saw a guy running out of the parking lot toward that building, then boom.”
“Did you get a good look at this person’s face?”
Like they’re ever gonna find it. “Nope. Just his back.”
“All right. Wait here, Miss—Cheyenne. I’ll be right back.” The officer hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and headed back toward his squad car. His partner and the other officers joined him, and the halfling didn’t even have to look their way to hear the conversation.
“Cheyenne Summerlin.”
“What? Like the politician Summerlin?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“Someone’s got a serious death wish if they’re screwin’ around with that woman’s daughter.”
“Says she doesn’t know anything.”
“Probably doesn’t. I didn’t even know the woman had a kid.”
“I’ll run her driver’s license. Then we’ll know more.” The officer with her ID slipped into his squad car as the other three turned together to eye Cheyenne.
She just raised her eyebrows and gave them a curt nod. No one said a thing until the officer stepped out of his car again and lifted her ID toward the others. Apparently, his wide eyes and cocked head meant that yes, the Goth chick was who she said she was.
He cleared his throat when he approached her. “I’m sorry this is the way your day started, Miss
