CHAPTER ELEVEN
Caffeine, Bianca Voigts thought.
Must have caffeine.
And lots of it.
The cup she’d downed with a skimpy breakfast back in her apartment was definitely not enough to see her through the important seminar she had this morning.
Fortunately, she was in the right place. The coffee shop in the Cheswick College student center was open even at this ungodly hour for those unfortunates with very early classes. Cheerful and well-lit, the shop was already pretty busy and buzzing with muted conversations among students who weren’t yet fully awake.
Bianca made her way to the front of the line and ordered a Cold Detonator, a notoriously jolting drink that boasted some 275 milligrams of caffeine, and which she had learned to rely on to get her through any early morning challenges. She
