by Martha Carr
“Oh-ho! Are you giving me credit for what you’re about to do?”
“Don’t get used to it.” The drow halfling shook out her hands, her chains dangling, and rolled her neck from one shoulder to the other to loosen up. Guess it’ll be easier to slip into drow when I feel like there’s a hidden camera on me somewhere.
It was. She pulled up an image of a gun pointed at Ember to get herself into that space. Her back sent a barrel roll of heat across her skin, and she took on her dark drow coloring, hair shifting black to white from the roots to the ends. She opened her golden eyes.
The corners of Mattie’s mouth turned up in surprise. “You look bad-ass. You’ve been practicing.”
“It’s not like I timed myself or anything.”
Mattie tapped a finger on her lips, which were still curled into a small smile. She nodded. “Keep going.”
Blowing out a long breath, Cheyenne imagined herself in front of her bathroom mirror, practicing for hours to pick up her human form again. She closed her eyes. Just a bunch of deer in the woods. Might not be the happy place, but it’s as calm as—
Something hit her in the neck. She opened one eye beneath a raised brow.
Mattie spread her arms and grinned. “Had to test it. Just to make sure it was real.”
In front of the woman’s hand, another penny from the tray on the shelf floated midair.
Cheyenne glanced down at her hands—super-pale and black-painted fingernails, no hint of drow gray. “It’s real, all right. And this means—”
The penny shot across the office and pinged off her eyebrow piercing.
“Come on.”
“Look at you.” Mattie bobbed her head in a mix of encouragement and mockery. “It’s like I’m throwing pennies at a regular human.”
Cheyenne kept her human appearance without letting her annoyance get the better of her. “As annoying as that is, we should step it up.”
“Oh, you think you’re ready for some real pressure, huh?” The professor nodded and tapped her lip again. “What did you have in mind?”
“Got any guns around?”
Mattie’s smile disappeared. “That’s not funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“No, Cheyenne. I don’t keep guns in my office on a university campus.” Mattie’s eyes narrowed, and she turned to pace in a large circle on the other side of the room. “But we can try something else.”
“Yeah. I’m ready.” Just keep thinking about deer. Little Bambi and his mom. Cheyenne snorted when she remembered that movie opened with deer and guns.
Okay, not Bambi.
“Good.” Mattie whirled to face her student and her hand whipped out. A brief silver light flashed from the woman’s fingertips, and an unseen force shoved the drow halfling sideways into the closed office door.
Cheyenne pushed herself away and turned to face her professor. “What the hell?”
“Didn’t see that coming, did ya?”
Deer. Deer. Deer.
“Nope.” Opening her clenched fists, Cheyenne took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you’re trying to hurt me.”
“Hurt you? Ha. Trust me, halfling, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have to try.” Mattie’s dark ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head, which made Cheyenne think of Ember’s ponytail the night her friend had met up with those orcish thugs.
Think of the woods. The quiet. Keep it down.
“And if anyone else wanted to hurt you…” Mattie lashed out with the same invisible spell and sent her student flying back against the wall. “You’d never see it coming.”
With a grunt, Cheyenne pushed herself to her feet and rolled her shoulders. “I’m trying to work around that part.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Crap.
Mattie folded her arms and held Cheyenne in her feral gaze. “I don’t want to ask you again if everything’s okay, but that last remark made it sound like you think someone is trying to hurt you.”
“I don’t.” Cheyenne waved for her teacher to come at her, squaring her feet and leaning forward a little to brace for impact. “Do it again.”
Mattie didn’t move. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
“I said, I’m fine.” Or I will be when I figure out where those magical mobsters will be tonight.
“Cheyenne, I’m trying to help. I told you more than I should have yesterday, and I can’t help feeling responsible for you because of it.”
The heat of her magic flared, but she pushed it down. “The only person responsible for me is me. You’re responsible for teaching me how not to lose my shit when someone keeps pushing me.”
A ripple of gray passed over Cheyenne’s skin, visible for a split second on her arms and chest beneath the fishnet shirt. It faded, and the half-drow wished she could keep from breathing so hard. At least it’s better than shifting.
Mattie studied her, both eyebrows raised, and lifted a hand toward her student for a quick, acknowledging gesture. “Looks like you’re getting a good grip on that part.”
Cheyenne glanced at her arms. All human. “Guess so.”
“There’s one more thing I think we should try. If you can master that, I’ll hold up my end of the deal.”
Answering my questions about the FRoE and Borders and portals. Except now the questions I have will give away what I’m trying to do. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”
“Okay.” Professor Bergmann stepped toward her desk and leaned against the edge. “We’re gonna work on your speed going back and forth. Human to drow. Drow to human.”
“I already covered that.”
“And letting off a spell or two in between. If you have to use magic and it isn’t an option to let everybody see your lovely drow locks afterward,” Cheyenne snorted, “you need speed on your side. Something tells me you wouldn’t just walk away from a situation where you could have stepped in but chose to stay hidden instead.”
Cheyenne’s last reserve of calm faded. Because that’s what I did with Ember, and it put her in the hospital.
She shifted to her drow side. “No. I’m not walking away from anything.”
“Good.” Mattie nodded and studied her student with a wary gaze. “Show me how important that is to you.”
Purple and black sparks shot from Cheyenne’s fingertips, and she hardly thought about where she was aiming or why before those sparks launched across Bergmann’s office. A loud rip filled the room as her spell tore through the upholstery on one armchair. It didn’t register until almost ten seconds later. That was how long it took her to bring up her memory of the woods and let her drow magic fade into the background again.
She frowned at the armchair, blue eyes instead of golden narrowed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Mattie cleared her throat. “I was waiting for a good reason to replace those. You have your new target. Try it again. Faster.”
Cheyenne shook out her hands and got ready to repeat the process. “There aren’t any stories going around about halflings shifting themselves into, like, a puddle of goo or anything, are there?”
Her professor shrugged. “Stories are just stories. If you feel ‘gooey,’ that’s a good sign it’s time to take a break.”
“I hope you’re learning something from this too.” Cheyenne centered her focus on the armchair, shaking her head as her professor chuckled.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“So the next halfling you train won’t be constantly reminded you’re not an expert on halfling training.”
“I will be after this.”
“Right.” Cheyenne embraced her drow magic and the heat and her anger, her skin tingling into slate-gray even as she unleashed another small attack on the armchair. It felt easier this time to imagine walking barefoot through the woods.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Two seconds.” Mattie nodded and grabbed the handle of her briefcase on wheels. “Not bad.�
�
“Yeah, for only three days of your weird training methods.” Cheyenne wiggled her fingers in front of her face. Her skin still tingled from the aftereffects of shifting and using so much magic with intent, although she looked human.
“It’s working well for both of us.”
Cheyenne huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“All right. Now I’m heading to the gym. I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me know if you change your mind about a run.”
“I won’t.”
Mattie laughed and stepped through the door. “Just lock up—”
Cheyenne had her backpack over her shoulders and the doorknob in her hand before her professor could finish. “I’m leaving too.”
Casting the halfling a sideways glance, Mattie hid a smile as they walked down the hall together. “You know, you might fool most people with the makeup and your apparent mastery over complete lack of expression. But you look pretty pleased with yourself.”
“That’s what smiles are for.” The corners of Cheyenne’s mouth twitched in what most people wouldn’t call a smile. When Mattie laughed, the halfling let herself join in for a few seconds. “Hey, I have a question maybe you can answer.”
The programming professor stopped in the hallway and glanced around. It was empty. “Is it a question we should discuss in my office and not out here in the middle of a public hallway?”
“Hey, when it’s four o’clock, you don’t even stop to make sure your students are gone and your office is locked up all the way.” Cheyenne shrugged. “I’ll make it quick.”
Mattie sighed. “It better be. I downed an energy shot while you were blowing up my furniture.”
Cheyenne ignored the comment and lowered her voice. “If a certain…organization of people like us, more or less, wanted to find a specific person…like us…how would they do that?”
Mattie frowned.
“An organization that starts with an F.”
“I know who you mean, Cheyenne. My answer is that it depends on the person they’re trying to find. Are there records in the system? Are they registered? Do they carry a high profile on this side, or did they carry a high profile on the other side? Anything that can be found and any connections that can be made will be found and made in covert ways.” Mattie tilted her head at her student. “If there’s nothing in the system, I wouldn’t say this organization is above more old-school routes of finding someone.”
“You mean, in person?”
“Something like that.”
Cheyenne ran her thumbs under the straps of her backpack and glanced down the hallway behind them. “Any chance you know how to get into that system?”
“None.” The professor’s grip tightened around the handle of her wheeled briefcase; Cheyenne heard the handle creak in Mattie’s grip. “And I wouldn’t want to. I’d also advise anyone who thought they wanted to that staying out of that mainframe might save that person’s life. If that person wanted to avoid being found and locked up and shipped out, if you catch my drift.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“They’re doing their jobs, Cheyenne. As long as that’s what you keep doing, too, you won’t have any problems.” Professor Bergmann studied her student with a concerned frown. “Anything else?”
“Just have fun on your run, I guess.”
“Right.” Mattie walked away and down the hall. “See you tomorrow.”
Cheyenne stayed where she was and watched her professor disappear around the corner toward the front of the IT building.
She’s way too afraid of these people to believe that the FRoE’s supposed to keep everybody safe. How bad can they be if a bunch of other black-market magicals have been gaming the system and screwing with their own kind? Not bad enough to stop them, that’s for sure.
It seemed likely someone with no political ties to the FRoE or this “other side” or any of the gangs strong-arming magicals like Ember and her goblin friend Trevor would have more room to operate under the radar.
Someone like me. What’s badder than an unlisted drow halfling no one can find?
Cheyenne pulled out her phone and gave Ember another call. Straight to voicemail again. Still got time to stop by the hospital before heading out to Chez Summerlin.
A nurse was stepping out of Ember’s hospital room and closing the door behind her when Cheyenne arrived. “How’s she doing?”
“Oh.” The nurse jolted and glanced up from the iPad in her arms. “Hi. Are you here for a visit?”
“Yeah. Is she awake yet? I mean, like, able to talk or…”
“Well.” The nurse tried to cover her surprise at seeing a young woman Gothed out in the middle of the recovery ward. “She’s—”
“Jeanette.” Dr. Andrews turned the corner and walked toward them. “Can you take these files back to my office? I have a follow-up appointment a few doors down, but that’s in two minutes.”
“Of course.” The nurse took his files from him, smiled at Cheyenne, and took off at a brisk pace toward the end of the hall before disappearing around another corner.
“Ms. Gaderow was awake for almost fifteen minutes earlier this afternoon.” Dr. Andrews glanced at the door to Ember’s room. “She didn’t speak as far as I know, so it’s plausible she’s still in shock. She’s sleeping again.”
“Hmm.” Cheyenne stuck her hands in her pockets and eyed the door, wanting to be there if Ember woke up again. Cheyenne wouldn’t be able to leave her in time to get to her mom’s. That wouldn’t go very well for her later, but if Ember could talk to her, her mom could wait. “Is that normal?”
“I’m sorry?”
She kept her gaze on Dr. Andrews. “Not the shock part. I get that. I mean, all the sleeping.”
“Sometimes. Everyone handles trauma differently. But we’ve found nothing alarming. As long as her vitals stay within normal range, and she’s responding well to the surgery and any other treatments, we’ll let her come out of it in her own time.”
“Has anybody else come to see her? Like her family?”
Dr. Andrews opened his mouth and closed it again with a sympathetic frown. “That’s one of those things I don’t have the liberty to share with you.”
“Right. ‘Cause I’m not family. I get it.”
“You’re more than welcome to visit for a bit.” The doctor glanced at his wristwatch. “You still have about an hour and a half.”
“Okay.”
He nodded at her with a reassuring smile and headed a few doors down before stepping into his next appointment. Cheyenne approached the door to Ember’s room and peered inside, cupping her hands around her eyes at the narrow, rectangular window. She couldn’t see her friend’s face, but Ember’s hair was fanned out behind her on the pillow as she lay on her side facing the window.
The halfling stepped back and stuck her hands into her pockets. Rolling over’s a good sign, I guess. And I should leave before I miss my chance at cocktail hour with Bianca. I can’t screw this one up.
She shut the door and went toward the front of the inpatient wing. Just before she reached the automatic doors, a tingle of being watched crawled along the back of her neck. Cheyenne moved faster, grateful the doors opened so she didn’t run through them.
Either I’m losing my mind, or there’s someone tailing me. If that’s it, they’re good.
She waited until she’d crossed the parking lot and was halfway to her car before turning around to reassure herself. A tall man in a VCU baseball cap was a few yards behind her. She met his gaze like he’d been staring at her the whole time as they crossed the lot together. He flashed her a smile and veered toward another car.
If it’s even his.
The double-beep of the car being remotely unlocked echoed across the parking lot. Cheyenne sighed.
I swear I’m not overreacting. What am I missing?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
That feeling of being watched faded after the first ten minutes in the car. Cheyenne let herself settle into the familiarity of the
route out of the city and pulling up in front of the house that represented her childhood.
Twenty-something years ago, Bianca had moved to the family farm that used to belong to her parents, who’d both passed in early 2000.
Just in time to miss the scandal of Bianca Summerlin’s pregnancy out of wedlock.
Cheyenne pulled off the freeway onto the dirt road and headed farther into the Henry County countryside. Her mom hadn’t told her much about her first few months up here on her own, although the halfling knew more about those events than she knew about her father. A young, aspiring research economist with a promising future in politics retiring to the backcountry on a whim.
Bianca Summerlin never stopped working to have her only child, and she’d raised Cheyenne as best she knew how within the six-bedroom lodge home. Nothing stopped her from giving Cheyenne the best education available and access to every luxury Cheyenne hinted at wanting when she was younger, although it wasn’t much since Cheyenne had never been a materialistic child.
“It’s nice to be back here in the woods.” Cheyenne proceeded up the gravel drive toward the main house and scanned the manicured lawn at the edge of the forest.
I’m looking for deer right now.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention toward the reason she was coming here. The conversation would not be a surprise for either of the Summerlin women, not this time. “I need to be ready for whatever she tells me.”
She glanced at her backpack in the passenger seat, knowing what she’d brought with her could make the conversation go one of two ways. Either it would convince her mom to lay everything on the table, or it would make the woman clam up. Cheyenne hoped she wouldn’t have to pull it out over drinks on the back patio and shove a blast from Bianca’s past under her nose, but if it came to that, she would.
She hoped her mom would respond with option number one.
The Focus crunched to a slow stop on the drive in front of the large French doors at the top of the wide, curved steps leading into the house. Cheyenne left her keys in the ignition. No one out here to steal a car. Steal anything. A thief had to drive over an hour off the highway to get to the Summerlin home. No point locking up.
