Dreamwalker

by Allyson James

  Mick gave me a brief kiss on the lips before he gently pushed me away, but not to reject me. He moved a few steps down the railroad bed to the clothes he’d hidden there, pulling on a pair of jeans over his nakedness.

  Then he took my hand, led me up and over the railroad bed and across the open space to the back door of my hotel. He was barefoot, but rocks and thorns never bothered Mick.

  He kissed me again on the doorstep, the kiss holding all of his fire and plenty of promise. Then he took me inside and down the short hall to my bedroom, where he closed the door, shutting out the world.

  Only an old crow, perched high in the juniper tree, watched us go in, and she said nothing at all.

  ***

  I woke in darkness, the moon high, clouds dragging across it to dim its light. Mick was gone, but the pillow beside me was warm, and I knew he hadn’t gone far.

  I rolled out of bed to my feet, my body sore from my recovery and Mick’s exuberant welcome. I was grateful for the dreamless sleep I’d plunged into, I guessed courtesy of Mick, whose healing magic included sending the hurt person to cozy oblivion.

  I dragged on some clothes and went to check out the quiet hotel. Tomorrow I’d go see Maya and find Drake. While I’d been in the hospital, Fremont had called to tell me Maya was better and had gone home, to her old house, he’d stressed.

  We’d had no word from Drake, and Mick was worried, though he said nothing. Drake hadn’t been at the jail when it had fallen—as far as I knew—but that didn’t mean Emmett hadn’t found some way to hurt him too. Pain and suffering seemed to be the criteria for walking the dreams with me.

  It was late, but guests were still in the lobby, and Cassandra was behind the reception desk. This was a hotel for the paranormal, which meant people who were at home in the night—witches, Nightwalkers, Changers, and other things I didn’t know much about.

  The small, wizened couple reading together on the couch caught my eye. They didn’t look human, but their auras weren’t demon or anything witchy. They had the solid, clean auras of earth magic, but I had no clue what they were.

  I headed into the saloon, wanting to make sure the magic mirror was intact. It was the focus of Emmett’s attention, and finding the frame empty in the dream worried me.

  I nodded at Carlos, the bartender, and looked past him to the wall. A shudder of déjà vu went through me as I saw that the entire mirror was gone, frame and all.

  My mouth opened and closed as I pointed at the empty space. Carlos looked puzzled then glanced to what I stared at.

  “Oh, the mirror,” he said, and went on dispensing wine into two glasses. “Cassandra took it down. It’s being fixed, I guess. Good thing. Needs it.”

  Carlos set the glasses on a tray and slid away to deliver them to the couple in the corner. That couple’s auras were distinctly wolf, though they looked human enough at the moment.

  In a daze, I walked into the kitchen. Elena was cleaning up after service—or rather, she was sitting at the table having a meal while Don, her assistant, scrubbed off the counter. Don sent me a grin as I entered, but also a warning look. Elena wasn’t alone—my grandmother sat across from her, watching Elena eat.

  “Janet,” Grandmother said without rising. “I heard Mick brought you home. I thought you’d stay in the hospital at least a few more days.”

  “I’m much better,” I assured her.

  “He lets you get up too soon,” Grandmother said, meaning Mick. “Firewalkers are impatient.”

  “They’re also good healers,” I said, on my way to the refrigerator. It was too much to hope Elena had held something back for late-night diners. When she closed the kitchen, it stayed closed. I’d become an expert at throwing together cold sandwiches.

  “You need to tell me about these dreams,” Grandmother said when I emerged with bread and meat. “Leave nothing out.” Elena’s heavy silence said she agreed with her.

  I sighed, sat myself down at the table, and told them what had happened while I spread mustard and piled roast beef onto Elena’s homemade bread.

  I relayed everything I could remember, knowing even the smallest detail might be important. My second dream hadn’t faded as rapidly as the first—possibly because unique events had occurred, different from the original past—but already some parts had grown fuzzy.

  “Maya and the Firewalker called Drake were truly there?” Grandmother asked. “Or were manifestations of your own dream? Have you asked them?”

  “Not yet.” I took a big bite of my sandwich, my appetite returning with a vengeance. “Maya’s resting, and we haven’t seen Drake.”

  Grandmother looked grim. “You should look for him.”

  Elena laid down her silverware and spoke for the first time since I’d entered. “We need another talk with Mr. Emmett Smith. Where did he go after Mick destroyed his office?”

  I shrugged, my mouth full. “I haven’t the faintest idea.” At the moment, I didn’t care. I was hungry, and I needed to talk to Cassandra about the mirror.

  “Find him,” Elena said. “Bring him to me and Ruby. Here in the hotel.”

  I swallowed quickly, nearly choking. “I don’t want him anywhere near my hotel.”

  Elena frowned at me. “Best place. We can defend ourselves well here. We will put him against a wall and make him leave us alone.”

  “We tried to fight him before, remember?” I pointed out. That fight had been one of the toughest of my life.

  “We were out of our territory,” Grandmother said. “Bring Emmett here. If he wants the magic mirror, use it against him. Make him realize it’s too costly for him to take. A man like that needs to understand he can’t have everything he wants.”

  “He can have everything he wants,” I said. “He’s killed plenty of people to gain the power he has now. I don’t see how we can persuade him not to.”

  “Every mage has a vulnerability,” Elena said. “We will find his, and use it to bring him to his knees.”

  She spoke confidently, and my grandmother nodded right along with her.

  These two women, my grandmother in her skirt and blouse, Elena in blue slacks and brightly flowered top, were the most frightening and powerful beings in the hotel, more even than the wolf Changers in the saloon or the Nightwalker in the TV room, who was enjoying Laura, a noir classic. These two women could destroy half the town, if they put their minds to it. Thank heavens they were kind underneath it all, and didn’t like to see innocents get hurt.

  I did not want to ease the wards to let Emmett enter the hotel, but I conceded that they had a point—if we had to face Emmett, we’d be stronger on our own ground.

  On the other hand, if he beat us, he’d have control of my hotel and all the magics in it, including the mirror.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. I took my empty plate to the sink, threw away my paper napkin, gave a nod to Don, and went out.

  Cassandra was typing briskly behind the reception desk. I leaned on the counter, waiting for her to pause.

  “Why are you here so late?” I asked her. “Not that I mind,” I added quickly.

  Cassandra looked up, unoffended. “I’ve moved into the bedroom on the third floor so I can better keep an eye on the place. Pamela has too.” Her tone turned apologetic. “She wasn’t about to let me stay here alone.” While she sounded exasperated, she knew I’d understand. I had a very protective mate as well.

  “That’s good, as a matter of fact. I was going to ask you to stay. I’m sorry I’ve been so out of it lately—thanks for covering.”

  Cassandra gave me a puzzled glance. “It’s my job to cover, and your absences haven’t been your fault. You’ve made an enemy of the Ununculous. The fact that you’re still alive attests to your amazing strength.”

  At the moment, I felt about as strong as a wet napkin. “Cassandra, you are so good at running this hotel, I think I should step aside permanently. Sell the place to you, retire and take photos the rest of my life. Sounds restful.”

  Cassandra’s li
ght blue eyes widened. “What on earth would I do with a hotel?”

  “Obviously make a lot of money from it. No one could run it better than you. You’re a frigging genius.”

  She shook her head, my unflappable manager suddenly agitated. “No, no, no. I am good at managing—I love organizing and finding the most efficient way to turn a profit without sacrificing quality and the comfort of the guests. But Goddess, I wouldn’t want to own a hotel. What a nightmare.”

  “Thanks,” I said dryly. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Cassandra frowned at me. “You misunderstand. You have done wonders here—you are the perfect hotelier. You hire people like me to make it work and you don’t get in our way, but you’re generous and understanding. Plus, your magic and Mick’s is what keeps this hotel safe. You’ve made a place where the supernatural can relax and not have to battle for every second of their lives. You have a Nightwalker watching movies with a witch, and neither is worried about killing the other. And goblins now have a place to celebrate their two-hundredth wedding anniversary without fear.”

  I glanced across the lobby to the ancient couple. “Is that what they are?” I whispered.

  “Yes. It’s an old earth-magic race, like dragons, but different.” Cassandra waved this away. “I suggested the hotel to them, and they are having a blast. I could never have provided a setting like this. You need to stick around and keep this haven as it is.”

  Cassandra was not one who lavished praise indiscriminately—she was like my grandmother in that regard, though much more polite about it. If she thought I was doing a good job here, then maybe I was. I warmed.

  “Elena thinks we should bring Emmett here,” I said. “That would end the haven real quick, if we can’t defeat him.”

  “I think she’s right,” Cassandra said, her eyes snapping. “Time for the Ununculous to end his reign, in my opinion.”

  My friends were extremely confident we could take down Emmett, or at least that I could. But I was ready to take the fight to him, as I’d already decided.

  Meanwhile … “The magic mirror,” I began.

  Cassandra’s cheeks tinged pink. “It’s in the basement, near Elena’s storage room. I thought it would be safer there, and Flora is anxious to get started.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Elena’s “storage room” was what we called the place where a vast well of shaman magic she’d inherited from her ancestors pooled. Cassandra’s assessment that the mirror would be safe from thieves near it was a good one.

  “Do you truly believe Flora can fix it?” I leaned my elbows on the counter, already tired though I’d not been awake long. “When I contacted my mage friend in Oklahoma, she said it would take magics far more powerful than hers to put it back together. And she’s pretty good. I didn’t sense that kind of ability from Flora.”

  “Earth magic is tricky.” Cassandra’s embarrassment faded as she explained. “Its magic rooted in bedrock, in mountains. Slow but so very strong. Look how strong Mick is, or your storm power, or your grandmother. Pamela … Changers also have earth magic. I’m fire and air, which is different. My magic is faster, and possibly more destructive initially, but try arguing with a mountain.” She gave me a wry look, as though she found arguing with Pamela a futile effort.

  “I get that.” Both Mick and my grandmother could be rock-stubborn. “But a mage gifted enough to fix the mirror might try to take it from us. This is why I haven’t scoured the world for someone to repair it.”

  “Which is why I think Flora is perfect,” Cassandra said. “She has no interest in talismans she can’t handle. She likes reading tarot and palms and casting simple spells. I doubt she’ll be in the running for Ununculous soon.”

  I hadn’t felt an evil vibe from Flora, it was true, but powerful mages were good at hiding themselves. “I’m fine with her trying, but I’d like Mick there, and you and Pamela, in case she does turn out to be evil incarnate.”

  “Very wise.” Cassandra gave me a nod. “Shall I schedule it for tomorrow morning?”

  “Sure,” I said, and she typed it into her scheduling software. Ten a.m., Magic Mirror Repair.

  I bade her a good night and turned away.

  Pamela was coming down the stairs as I crossed the lobby again. She fixed me with a gray, wolflike gaze. “You have her working too hard.”

  I looked right back at her. “Sweetie, if you can convince Cassandra to shut down her computer and go to bed, you have my blessing.”

  Pamela studied me narrowly. She was Native American, with a finely shaped, oval face and brown eyes that changed to gray with her wolf. We’d met when she’d burst in here one day and attacked me. I had no doubt about her strength.

  “Hmm,” she said, her gaze softening. “Good night, then.”

  I left them to it.

  ***

  I returned to bed well after midnight. When Mick looked in on me, I patted the mattress beside me, but he only leaned down and kissed my forehead.

  “I found Drake,” he announced. “I’m off to talk to him.”

  “It’s the middle of the night.” I knew it was unnecessary for me to point this out—it was pitch black outside. “Go tomorrow. Or wait and let me come with you. I want to hear what he has to say.”

  I struggled to sit up only to find a firm hand pinning me down. “You are exhausted.” As soon as Mick said the words, my eyelids drooped. He touched my cheek. “Sleep, Janet.”

  I found myself falling back into the pillows. Damned dragon and his healing magic.

  My sleep was refreshing, as Mick meant it to be. I did dream, but this was a familiar dream, with a comforting haziness rather than sharp reality.

  I seemed to be out in the desert under the spread of stars, my clothes gone but my skin perfectly warm. Constellations twinkled above me—Cassiopeia and Perseus, the bears large and small, the North Star.

  A coyote came out of a wash, and I folded my arms and waited for him.

  “Well?” I asked when he sat down by my side and didn’t speak. “I’m naked and dreaming. What kind of cryptic god shit are you going to tell me this time?”

  Ah, Janet, you are so cynical. The huge coyote wrinkled his nose. Maybe I just like visiting you.

  “Spit it out. I have sleep to catch up on.” I used impatience to hide my nervousness. Coyote’s little dream chats usually meant I’d have to face something terrible.

  All right, all right. Coyote heaved a sigh, his furry sides moving. The all powerful can be the most vulnerable, but compassion is the strongest gift of all. In the end, you’ll have to choose, and make the choice for others. His voice grew quieter, more serious. Be careful how you choose, Janet. Cruelty is so easy.

  I stared. “What does all that mean? Can you be any more vague?”

  Coyote chuckled. Yeah, it does sound like bullshit you’d hear from a crystal ball reader at a county fair. But seriously, Janet, if you fight Emmett, it’s going to be tough. You might lose people you love. He’s not a pushover. As you’ve already figured out, he’s hard to kill.

  “That’s why it would be great to have you there. A god might tip the balance. You don’t think he should be allowed to win and take my mirror, do you?”

  No, I think he’s a dickhead. But he’s human underneath it all, and I’m not allowed to go around snuffing out human beings. No one would be left if gods could do that. But don’t worry—I’ll try to keep you alive. You’re cute, Janet, and I love you.

  Only Coyote could make me angry and pleased at the same time. “Thanks,” I said. “I guess.”

  Don’t look so disappointed. You’ll kick ass just fine. But remember what I said about cruelty. Emmett thrives on it. Don’t play his games, or you’ll end up just like him.

  “You always know how to make me feel better.” I shivered, the night growing cool. I knew that in reality, I was tucked up in bed, so the window must be open or my covers sliding off. “What is up with my dreams? Dreamwalking, Emmett called it. Why am I reliving my past?”


  Coyote considered. The past can be instructive. You can evaluate decisions you made, see firsthand what you’re truly like. Scary, but instructive.

  I gazed at him in sudden suspicion. “Did you send me into the dreams? As a twisted way of teaching me a lesson?”

  He laughed. I was truly entertaining tonight. Not me. I like teaching lessons, but dreamwalking is dangerous. You might be doing it to yourself, unaware, or Mick might have sent you for reasons of his own. Dreamwalking can be addicting, especially if they’re happy dreams. You want to stay there and not come out.

  I hadn’t wanted to emerge from the first dream. I didn’t remember much about it, but I remembered a feeling of happiness, contentment. “Mick would never endanger me like that,” I said.

  He might. If he thought the good outweighed the danger. I’m speculating—that’s all. Mick probably has nothing to do with it. But you need to find out who is making you dreamwalk, and stop them, before you get stuck and don’t come out.

  Good advice. “Speaking of dreaming, I need my rest,” I said. “Good night.”

  I turned around and marched off in the direction where I thought my hotel lay. I couldn’t be certain out in this darkness—Coyote could have brought me anywhere.

  I heard a coyote yip and howl behind me. Nice ass, Janet.

  “Pervert,” I muttered.

  Yep. Good night, sweetheart.

  The desert vanished, and I sank into warmth and darkness. What seemed a too-brief time later, I woke to bright sunshine, and Mick kissing me awake.

  “It’s almost ten, sleepyhead,” Mick said, his touch light on my cheek. “Flora’s about to start.” His eyes were alight with interest. “I don’t want to miss this.”

  ***

  Flora gathered us, not in the basement, but outside in the full sunshine, between the hotel and the railroad bed. I was the last to arrive, having taken time to quickly shower and dress. By the time I made it outside, I saw that she’d called in every earth magic person she could find in Magellan, which included our hotel guests.

  The couple Cassandra called goblins stood a little apart from the group, hand in hand. Pamela watched Flora with her usual suspicion, ready to break in and stop her if she thought the woman was a danger. Colby had come as well, and greeted me with a sound hug.