I approached the mirror and looked into it. I saw nothing but blue sky, the clouds floating by, and my face, framed by dark hair that spilled over my shoulders. “You all right?” I asked.
No answer. Again, the mirror could be choosing not to talk.
I touched the glass. It was smooth, unbroken, whole, as though no bullets had ever pierced it.
“That was something to see,” Mick said beside me.
“Now everyone knows we have a magic mirror,” I pointed out.
“They already knew. Or suspected. Cassandra chose the participants well.”
The sturdy face of my grandmother appeared in the mirror next to Mick, her dark eyes behind her glasses sharp. “Hmph,” she said after she’d gazed down at it for a time. “A lot of fuss to fix a piece of glass.”
***
Don, Fremont, and Mick very carefully carried the cooled magic mirror back inside and hung it in place. The mirror gazed down at the saloon, whole and in once piece, but still silent.
The human guests who’d come for lunch, applauded. Julie, who’d entered with Jamison and Naomi, joined in when she saw the others clapping.
Jamison came to me. “Thanks for letting me be part of that.”
“Like I could have stopped you.” I sent him a smile, loving this man who’d been the first person in my life to understand and help me.
“You know what I mean,” Jamison said, giving me a quiet look.
Julie tapped me to get my attention. “He thinks you’re still mad at him for trying to cure me,” she said both out loud and in sign. “Tell him to get over himself.”
“Get over yourself, Jamison,” I said obediently. “Being possessed and trying to kill your best friend wasn’t your fault.”
Jamison’s look turned wry. “Thanks. You’re always so understanding.”
I think Jamison figured out, though, that I’d forgiven him long ago. Julie took his hand and led him away to the table where Naomi waited. Now that the show was over, everyone was ready to enjoy Elena’s cooking.
I scrutinized the mirror a moment longer. It said nothing, so I left it alone, but I’d worry until I heard its annoying voice again.
Outside in the parking lot, Fremont had his arm around Flora as he helped her toward his truck. Flora was on her feet but looked exhausted. I caught up to them.
“Thank you,” I told Flora sincerely. “What do I owe you?”
Flora tiredly raised her brows. “Owe me for what?” Her voice was a croak, the flutelike quality temporarily diminished.
“For the spell.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t charge to do magic.” She sounded aghast. “I give it freely. That is the price of my gift.”
I raised my hands. “Sorry. Wasn’t trying to offend you. I don’t charge for using my magic to solve crimes either.” For some reason I wanted her to know that.
“You solve crimes?” she asked, suddenly interested.
“And you can talk to her all about it later,” Fremont said, his arm firming around Flora. “Right now, you’re going home to rest.”
“Yes.” Flora’s infatuated look returned. “Thanks, Fremont.”
The two of them melded into each other as Fremont guided Flora the rest of the way to his truck and opened the passenger door for her.
Oh, dear. I’d have to keep an eye on that relationship and make sure it didn’t blow up in Fremont’s face. The poor guy had been burned once too often—sometimes literally.
As I turned back to my hotel, I saw Maya at her work truck—a new one—in the dirt lot at the side of the building. Nash was with her, and they looked as though they were arguing, as usual.
I made my way toward them. Nash wore clothes similar to what he had in my dream—running shorts and T-shirt, but today he wore a sweat jacket, and if he had a pistol under it, he kept it holstered.
“Maybe you can talk sense into her,” Nash said to me as I approached. “She’s been hurt, and it’s not the time for a road trip.”
“Road trip to where?” I asked.
“Tucson,” Maya said. The small white bandage on her forehead made a sharp contrast to her liquid black hair. “It’s not like I want to drive to Connecticut.”
I gave her a sharp look. “It was a dream, Maya.”
Maya started. “How do you know what I dreamed about?”
“Because I was there. It’s called dreamwalking, apparently. But I don’t think what we saw was real.”
Nash’s eyes narrowed. “What did you dream about?”
So she hadn’t told him. I shrugged. “Lots of things. It’s not important anymore. Maya, you don’t need to go to Tucson. I’m not clear on what exactly happened at the jail—how did you get hurt?”
Nash answered for her. “The cell block exploded. We were outside in the parking lot, and Maya got hit with rubble.” His tight tone said he blamed me, and he was partly right. If I’d not been trying to interrogate Emmett’s men, the spell wouldn’t have been triggered, and the jail wouldn’t have fallen down.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Maya. “I never meant for you to get caught in this.”
Maya lifted one shoulder. “Bad shit always goes down around you. You’re like a walking disaster area.”
“Can’t argue with you. You have to be resilient to put up with me. Are you allowed alcohol, or are you on meds?”
Maya beamed a smile. “Just off them. What did you have in mind?”
“Go tell Carlos to give you whatever you want, on the house. If you want a road trip, maybe sometime soon we can head to Las Vegas. I’ll drive.”
“Sounds good to me.” Maya gave Nash a little wave and sauntered off. “See you, Nash.”
Nash watched her go with a mixture of longing and worry. “She’s mad at me because of something I did in her dream, and she won’t tell me what. Has to be a first, even for me.”
Nash didn’t often let anyone see his softer side—if this was his softer side. I decided not to reveal he’d actually shot her, and kept it general. “She was remembering seeing you with Amy. That really hurt her.”
Nash’s gaze for once was without its anger. “I regret what I did during that time. I let Maya enrage me beyond reason, and she was right that I was still dealing with what happened to me in Iraq. I should not have hurt her.” His mouth firmed, the softness departing. “Not that she isn’t making me pay for every single minute of it now.”
“It wasn’t your fault, if it’s any consolation. You were bewitched, in every sense of the term.”
“So you say.” Nash went silent, but I knew he’d regret the decision to break up with Maya, coerced or no, for the rest of his life.
“What now?” he asked after a time. “I know Smith busted up my jail. Even if you instigated it by questioning his men, he’d have done it sooner or later.”
“What happened to his guys?” I asked. Even Mick hadn’t known that.
“One was killed. The driver and the other were taken to the hospital in Flagstaff. They’re still there.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
Nash’s grim law-enforcement look came back. “The man who died was wanted for some gruesome murders, so I can’t help thinking he found justice. The other two have spilled all they know about Smith, which isn’t much.”
“Emmett made sure of that. He’s very careful.” I slid my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, a habit Gabrielle had learned from me. “Want to help me take Emmett down?”
“What do you think?” Nash studied the open desert around us, as though hoping Emmett would come walking up so he could punch him. “If I knock him out and sit on him, will the void inside me drain his magic? Make him an ordinary human being?”
“Could be,” I said, enjoying picturing it. “It’s getting him in one place to knock him out that’s the trick. He’s slippery.”
“Then we need bait.”
Nash looked pointedly at me, but I wasn’t what Emmett wanted. He wanted the newly repaired, pristine, polished magic mirror hanging
in the saloon.
“True,” I said, cheered. “I’ll set it up.”
***
If I was going to capture Emmett and either let Mick eat him or Nash siphon off all his magic, I’d need help. Emmett would come for the mirror, but we’d have to hold on to him before he vanished or killed everyone in sight.
I decided to recruit the same roundup of people Flora had brought together to repair the mirror—Cassandra and Pamela; Elena and my grandmother; Mick, Colby, and Drake; Ansel if we did this at night, and Gabrielle …
“Where is Gabrielle?” I asked Grandmother and Elena as I barged into the kitchen sometime later. “I haven’t seen her since Flora started the mirror spell.” I realized also that her bite of magic had been missing from the line of people who’d helped Flora. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
Elena answered. “She has been chasing those dragons relentlessly. Ask one of them.”
“I have. Neither have seen her.”
Grandmother didn’t like that. She rose from her chair. “Find her, Janet.”
“I intend to.” I glanced around the kitchen, in case my sister was hiding somewhere, making faces, and even checked the walk-in refrigerator. I didn’t sense Gabrielle’s presence—which she could mask, I had to admit—but I didn’t see her either. “Let me know if you spot her,” I said, and left the kitchen.
Mick didn’t know where Gabrielle was himself, but he agreed with me and Grandmother that she needed to be found. We scoured the hotel, but nothing. She wasn’t in Barry’s bar, just open at three, either.
“She’s a grown woman,” Pamela pointed out. “With a driver’s license. She could have gone anywhere.”
Gabrielle might be in her twenties in body, but in many ways she was still a broken child. I hoped with all my strength she hadn’t gone to the vortexes to commune with our mother.
Mick and I hiked out that way. The dirt-filled wash that buried the vortex was intact, and neither of us felt anything disturbing from it.
As we turned back, I saw—or thought I saw—the faintest dark ripple pass across the surface of the hotel. It was gone in an instant, the sun shining hotter than ever. Storm clouds were playing over the mountains to the south and the San Francisco peaks to the west, which made me feel better. A little storm never hurt.
Mick had noticed the shadow as well, because he stopped. “What was that?”
“I have no idea,” I said with a feeling of disquiet.
Mick and I exchanged a glance. My turquoise engagement ring seemed to sting as we clasped hands and moved at a run to the railroad bed and on to the hotel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mick and I reached the hotel at a dead run. He flung open the back door and streamed inside ahead of me, his dragon instinct to make sure the way was safe before letting me follow.
We found nothing wrong. Cassandra lifted her head as we charged into the lobby, her calm face creasing with a frown. The protective wards Mick and I had wrought were intact—I’d have known the instant they were breached. The goblin couple sat at a table playing a quiet game of dominoes and sipping iced tea. They glanced up, then when we didn’t do anything interesting, returned to their game.
Mick moved to the reception desk and rested his fists on it. “Everything all right in here?”
“Yes.” Cassandra didn’t even bother to look around in alarm. She too would have known if something was wrong. “Why?”
“Hmm.” Mick stroked the polished wooden countertop. He was checking its aura, determining whether all was well with the entire building. “See if anything’s up with the mirror, Janet.”
My chest tightening, I hurried across the lobby to the saloon. Carlos was dispensing drinks, guests had gathered for an early afternoon repast, and the mirror hung unbroken on the wall.
I stepped behind the bar and put my hand on its frame. “You okay?”
I feared the mirror still wouldn’t speak to me, but it shuddered under my fingers and said, “Oh, girlfriend, that was awesome.”
I relaxed a fraction. Mirror repairs, I’d heard, could change a mirror’s personality, but its voice was still in its drag-queen drawl, its enthusiasm undimmed. I suppose I should wish for a nice, soft-spoken, kindly voice, male or female, but I knew in my heart I’d miss the obnoxious thing if it changed.
“Good,” I said, patting the frame. “Glad to see you back in one piece.”
“Was that a pun? Oh, good one.” It chuckled, the laugh extending far longer than the lame joke warranted. “What’s the matter, sweetie pie? You look shook up.”
“You’re all right? Mick and I thought we saw something, and Emmett is tricky.”
“He is. But he’s not in the hotel. If he’d come in here, I’d have screamed.”
The mirror would have, that was true. “Keep an eye out, all right?” I decided against telling it that I planned to use it as bait to lure Emmett here. No sense in panicking it too soon.
“I will, sugar buns. Tell that Flora she can swirl me up anytime she wants. Did wonders for my complexion.”
“I’m just glad it worked. Hang in there,” I said for its benefit.
The mirror laughed uproariously again, and I turned away.
Carlos, at the other end of the bar, said, “You know, everyone thinks you’re loco, Janet.”
“I know,” I said. I shot him a grin, and departed.
***
As much as Mick and I scoured the hotel and surrounding area, we found nothing that could have caused the dark ripple. We found no sign of Emmett, no sign of any other baddie, and also no sign of Gabrielle.
We split up the search—Mick driving up to Flat Mesa, me to look around Magellan. A call to my dad told me Gabrielle hadn’t returned to Many Farms, and also assured me that Dad and Gina were safe.
On a hunch, I drove past Maya’s old house to the house Amy McGuire had occupied before she’d disappeared. The house was up for rent, still owned by the McGuires, but no one had taken it since this past summer.
Gabrielle wasn’t there, and I found no aura of her anywhere on the street.
No one in Magellan had seen her either, not at the diner, the motel where Colby liked to hole up, Naomi’s plant nursery, or Paradox, the woo-woo store. I stocked up on supplies at Paradox, asking Heather Hansen, one of Fremont’s many cousins, if she’d noticed Gabrielle around, but Heather answered in the negative.
I went back to the hotel, found my newest cell phone, dialed Gabrielle’s number, and left her a message to call me. Pamela was right that Gabrielle was a grown woman, but she was a crazy grown woman, and who knew what she was up to?
I also called Emmett’s office building in Phoenix and left a message with his receptionist that he should call me. The receptionist sounded as cold as she had when we’d visited, with no mention at all of Emmett’s blown-out office. As with the jail, Mick had destroyed a part of the building without bringing the rest down, so maybe Emmett had already magicked it back together.
Mick and I went to bed early that night, to close out the world and have a council of war.
“How do we use the mirror as bait?” I asked him as we sat together in bed, sheets and blankets covering us against the evening coolness. I kept my voice low. The mirror could project itself through ordinary mirrors throughout the hotel, including the one behind the closed bathroom door, and eavesdrop. “Lay it out in the parking lot and send up a signal?”
Mick considered. “We could tell Emmett we’re tired of looking over our shoulders and ready to negotiate about the mirror. Emmett will sense a trap, but he’ll come.”
“Then there’s the problem of keeping him here. As soon as he knows our true purpose, he’ll vanish.”
Mick rested his arms on his crossed knees. The sheet covered him to his hips, baring his torso down past his navel. It was distracting sitting on a bed with a bare, hot guy a foot away while trying to discuss battle strategy.
“There’s a way to confine a mage,” Mick said, oblivious of my lustful thoughts. �
�A circle with very strong wards will hem him in and keep him from using escape magic.”
“I’m sure Emmett knows all about those and can counteract them,” I said gloomily. “Or how not to get trapped at all.”
“We have to try. He can survive dragon fire, but you said it hurts him.”
Mick spoke with clinical interest. At the moment, he was the dragon general trying to find weaknesses in his enemy.
“Emmett is human,” I said. “In my dream, when the dragon fire burned me, it was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. Emmett damped it, but he must feel that too, in the split second before he can do the spell.”
“That split second might be all we have.” Mick rubbed his upper lip, tatts moving on his arm. “I regret that Drake quit the Dragon Council. They’d be handy, for once.”
“They don’t know why Drake quit,” I pointed out. “You could always ask them to help.”
“Their help comes with a steep price.” Mick shrugged his big shoulders then stretched out in the bed and settled the covers over him. “I will think on it.” He closed his eyes.
I watched him, waiting for him to open his eyes again, continue the conversation, or maybe reach for me.
His body relaxed, his chest rose with a long breath, and he exhaled again with a slight snore.
I sighed. I envied Mick’s ability to fall asleep between one heartbeat and the next. No lying awake worrying about life’s problems or what we’d do come tomorrow. Just good night, and silence. It must be nice to have an uncluttered brain.
I got out of bed, pulled on a big T-shirt, and pattered into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I’d already brushed them in anticipation of going to bed with Mick, but I needed a ritual to calm me down so I could sleep. I’d wash my face again while I was at it.
I brushed, rinsed, and spit, then splashed warm water on my face and cleansed it with an aromatherapy wash I’d bought from Heather. The almond and lavender scents were indeed soothing, and I relaxed a bit.
Dreamwalker Page 20
