Dreamwalker

by Allyson James

  I didn’t have to, as it turned out. Pamela caught Gabrielle’s scent after we’d searched for about half an hour, and led me to the edge of the canyon that housed Clear Creek.

  Mick had taken me kayaking on this creek this summer, and we’d camped out along its banks. While I was not as rugged and outdoorsy as Mick, I’d enjoyed floating between narrow canyon walls, seeing only cliffs, reflecting water, green trees, and blue sky. I’d also liked sleeping under the stars with him, in so much wilderness just minutes from our own front door.

  Clear Creek was west of the hotel, while my dream had taken me east, but we’d circled around for a long time before Pamela had caught the scent.

  She also found the trail down to the canyon’s floor. It was narrow and precipitous—I suspected it was more of a wash than a trail—and we had to traverse it in the dark. The flashlight I’d brought for myself had to be kept off, Pamela complaining that it night-blinded her. The three dragons didn’t need flashlights, being perfectly able to see by the moon’s now faint light. Mick was kind enough to send a tiny ball of flame hovering at my feet to illuminate the rocks I was about to trip over, but that was the best I got.

  We made it to the bottom without mishap. Pamela, as wolf, roved the narrow banks of the creek then sat on her haunches, her nose wrinkling, gray eyes frustrated. I suspected the water kept her from homing in on the scent.

  I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Gabrielle!”

  No answer. The wind had increased, the clouds thickening, thunder rumbling to the south.

  Colby had hung back at the top of the gorge, and not long after the rest of us reached the creek, an orange and red dragon swooped overhead. He let out a stream of fire, which lit up the sandstone canyon walls and glittered on the water. He soared about half a mile north of us before he bellowed.

  “He’s found her,” Mick said, his black eyes glittering.

  Without another word, he led the rest of us at a rapid pace along the creek, Pamela bounding ahead. I stumbled along after Mick, and Drake brought up the rear. Drake’s firm grip kept me from falling numerous times, and I heard his exasperated intake of breath whenever he caught me.

  Colby settled on a rock at the top of the canyon—the narrow creek bed would be a tight squeeze for him while he remained dragon. Pamela halted, her low growls leading us on.

  I started to run, slipping on the sands of the creek’s bank. Where the canyon widened slightly, we found Gabrielle.

  She lay in a crumpled heap in the sand, facedown, the sagging branches of a cottonwood shielding her. The shirt and jeans she’d taken from my room in Many Farms were tattered and creased with dirt.

  Mick was on his knees beside her when I reached them, and I put out my hand, my heart pounding, and gently turned her over.

  Gabrielle was alive, awake, and weeping. She cracked open her eyes when I rolled her onto her back, her body shaking with sobs.

  “Janet.” The word was weak and cracked.

  I gathered Gabrielle against me, much as my father had cradled me. She lay limply in my grasp, her head on my shoulder, her strength gone.

  “He broke me in two,” she said in a trembling whisper. “He took me apart, and I couldn’t stop him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I held Gabrielle while she continued to weep, terrified and frail. My crazy little sister, so dangerous and unpredictable, was now pathetic and frightened in my arms.

  Mick laid a soothing hand on her back, but I knew he was also testing her aura. His eyes were grim in the light of Colby’s renewed fire.

  Mick sent me a nod without a word, confirming our fears. Emmett had stolen Gabrielle’s magic.

  We got Gabrielle up the trail, she shaking and barely able to move. Drake helped her most of all, half carrying her to the top in his strong arms.

  Colby offered to fly her back. Drake relinquished her and Colby lifted Gabrielle gently, then took off. While I knew that Colby could fly in erratic and stomach-dropping patterns, this time he only sailed low and straight the twenty miles back to the hotel.

  Pamela refused to put her fate in the talon of a dragon, so she ran back while Mick flew with me, followed by Drake.

  It took only a few minutes for Mick to reach the hotel again, even if he had to land far enough away so he had room to change back to his human form.

  By the time I made it inside, Colby had taken Gabrielle to my bedroom and laid her on the bed, removed her boots, and pulled blankets over her. Colby watched her with intense concern, as did Drake, who strode in behind Mick.

  Gabrielle’s face was wan, defeat in her eyes. I sank down to the edge of the bed and took her hand.

  “Gabrielle,” I said, my voice as stern as my grandmother’s. “I’m going after him for doing this. Trust me.”

  Gabrielle’s fingers were limp in mine. “It’s my fault, Janet,” she said, her voice a weary scratch. “I’m sorry.”

  “How is Emmett hurting you your fault?” I asked angrily.

  From the shamed look on her face, I had another insight into my sister. I remembered my dream of her father and Anna, the snarling man and the woman who only wanted a child to love.

  I remembered her father threatening to kill her stepmother and how he’d wanted to leave Gabrielle in the woods to die—a stark contrast to my father, who’d fiercely protected me. I’d known kids who had been abused by parents who’d come to believe the abuse was their fault. Gabrielle had the same worried look on her face—if she’d only been good, she’d not have been hurt.

  “It’s not your fault,” I told her firmly. “Emmett is a bastard who will do anything to get anything he wants. It has nothing to do with what you did.”

  “But it does.” Gabrielle’s fingers trembled as she closed them around mine. “I was going to kill him for you. I snitched a shard from the mirror when Fremont and Don were moving it before the spell. They never saw me. I slipped away while everyone was concentrating on Flora, and called Emmett. I told him I had a shard, that I could help him take the mirror from you, that I hated you enough to help him.” Gabrielle’s mouth shook, her eyes red with weeping. “I wanted to trick him into meeting me alone, away from the vortexes, and kill him for you. I wanted you to be proud of me.” She echoed the words from my dream, her voice as sad.

  “Oh, sweetie,” I said. I squeezed her hand between mine and lifted it to my heart. “Sweetie, next time you want to be brave, tell me. We’ll rip him apart together.”

  She shook her head. “He met me as planned, but he smacked me down with magics I’d never seen before, and he took the shard away from me. I tried to fight him. But he was too strong. Too wily.” She gave me a haunted look. “Then he did a horrible spell and split me in two. He took the best part of me away.”

  “Not the best part of you.” I squeezed her hand to my chest. “You’re more than your magic, Gabrielle. You’re my sister.”

  Gabrielle’s dark eyes welled with fresh tears. “It was worse than anything my father ever did to me. Worse than what those guys in Winslow wanted to do.”

  “I know,” I said quietly.

  Emmett had violated her the same as if he’d raped her. For a mage to strip another of power was a terrible thing. Magic was part of their essence, an integral piece of who they were. Even when Mick’s dragon had been split from him in my dream, he’d still had latent powers that he’d trained his human self to hone.

  Gabrielle, however, didn’t have even that. She’d identified herself with her magic for so long that she was terrified of facing the world without it. Like being stripped and put on display, she’d have nothing to hide behind, no defenses.

  And now Emmett wanted to take everything I was away from me.

  “I’ll take care of you,” I promised her. “I’m going to fix this.”

  Whether I could put back Gabrielle’s magic even if I bested Emmett I had no idea. But whatever the outcome, I’d protect her.

  “I couldn’t fight him,” Gabrielle repeated. “I tried so hard.”
<
br />   “I know, sweetheart.”

  Gabrielle’s vast confidence had come from her equally vast power, an awareness that she could hurt anyone who messed with her. Now she was shivering like a newborn chick, weak and alone.

  “I want you to let Grandmother take you back to Many Farms,” I said. “You’ll be safe there. When it’s over, I’ll come get you, and we’ll decide what to do.”

  Gabrielle shook her head, a little of her old fire rising. “No. I’m not running away from him. If he kills me, so what?”

  I scowled. “Don’t you dare talk that way. Don’t act like you don’t matter to anyone. I want you alive and well.”

  “Why, so you can get back at me for all the things I’ve done?” Gabrielle flared. “I bet you’re loving this. I’ve done a lot of bad things to you.”

  “And you’ve already paid for most of them,” I pointed out. “You’ve had to live with Grandmother—that should be payback enough.” I gave her a brief smile. “Families forgive, Gabrielle.”

  “You didn’t know my family, then,” Gabrielle said darkly. “My stepmom forgave my dad many times, usually right after he beat her up again.”

  “Not the same thing,” I said, my tone brisk. “And you know it.” I stood up. Nothing to be gained by us sitting here mourning. “If you insist on staying, then you can help. I need someone to escort the hotel guests somewhere safe—I suggest the diner in Magellan. And let Barry know that something very bad is going to go down here, in case he wants to lie low.”

  Gabrielle struggled to sit up. “Seriously? You want me to play babysitter?”

  I gave her a calm nod. “You’re good at motivating people to do things. Plus you need to find Nash and tell him to get his ass up here. I don’t care if he’s banging Maya right this second. Just find him.”

  Gabrielle looked a little more cheered by that errand. “Okay.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll take your sheep to safety and find Nash.”

  She stumbled out of bed, brushing off Colby’s offered hand. She rummaged in my dresser drawer for clothes, then ducked into my walk-in closet to change.

  Drake, who’d stood in silence since his arrival said quietly, “I will alert the barkeep,” and ducked out.

  Colby remained, a frown in place. “You need to fix this, Janet. If you don’t, I’ll rip his head off myself.”

  “Help Gabrielle take the guests to safety,” I told him. “If I need head ripping, I’ll let you know.”

  Colby growled, but I could see he agreed.

  Mick had grabbed clothes from his own drawer and slipped them on. “You want to face him here?” he asked.

  I pressed my palms together. “Might as well. The mirror has him cornered, and we’ll have the home-team advantage.”

  My original plans when I’d decided to take the fight to Emmett had not included battling him in my own hotel. But somehow I realized having a showdown with him here was inevitable.

  If I couldn’t stop him here, I wouldn’t be able to stop him anywhere else. Mick and I had sunk so much magic into this place—and so had Cassandra, not to mention Elena—that I’d have a lot of power backing me up.

  It meant, of course, that if Emmett beat us, he’d have ready access to the magic mirror, Elena’s pool of magic, and all my powers—but one thing at a time. I’d be dead or Emmett’s slave if he won anyway, beyond worrying about it.

  I thanked Colby, told him to get himself dressed so he didn’t terrify the guests, and went out with Mick.

  ***

  An hour later saw my hotel quiet and nearly deserted. Most of the guests had followed Gabrielle and Colby into the minivan that Mick had procured to evacuate the hotel. They’d been told there was a gas leak, but the more magical of them understood that something truly bad was about to happen. A few wanted to stay and help, but Cassandra firmly shooed them away.

  Ansel, however, refused to go. “This is my home now,” he said in his quiet voice as he met up with me in the lobby. “And so I will help you defend it. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you while I ran away like a coward.”

  “This is Emmett we’re talking about,” I reminded him. “You remember. The man who threw you around like you were nothing?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Ansel lifted his slim shoulders in a shrug. “He’s human. If he’s distracted fighting you, he might forget to fend off my attack until I have my teeth in him.”

  True, but Emmett could dose his own blood to hurt a Nightwalker. I had to admit that Ansel was good in a fight, though, and the more attacking Emmett at once, the better. I told him I appreciated his help and went on with my planning.

  My grandmother also refused to leave—no surprise—and so did Elena. “I have my own territory to defend here,” Elena said. “Mr. Smith needs to learn he can’t have everything his own way.”

  I knew I couldn’t convince them to go short of knocking them over their heads and dragging them off, so I nodded. “Fine, but stay in the kitchen. This will be bad, and I don’t need you getting hurt.”

  “We fought him before, Janet,” my grandmother said. “And won.”

  “You were on the fringes of his fight with another mage, and a goddess defeated all of us.” I pointed at the kitchen door. “Go.”

  Grandmother gave me an annoyed look, but at least she went, Elena behind her. I found Ansel again and asked him to guard them, and he gave me a reluctant nod.

  That left me, Mick, Cassandra, Drake, and Pamela, who refused to leave Cassandra’s side. Colby and Gabrielle were still out looking for Nash.

  I took up my position in the saloon, Mick beside me, Drake flanking, and Cassandra with Pamela at a table, Cassandra ready to work some powerful spells.

  Emmett filled the mirror. The skull of his face was horrible, and his eyes had enlarged to fill the sockets with glowing white. He still wore his glasses, emeralds winking in the light from his eyes. Like a close-up on a large movie screen, we could see only Emmett and nothing behind him.

  I wanted to wait for Nash, who could turn the tide, but all at once the mirror started rattling. Emmett’s hands were on the sides of the frame, as though he could grasp it from his side, and he was shaking it hard.

  The frame clanked against the wall, its banging dislodging the wine glasses hanging up near it, sending them shattering to the floor. Then the mirror went dark.

  While it was a relief not to see Emmett’s face anymore, my heart dropped. Emmett was learning how to manipulate things inside the mirror, and I had the feeling he was on his way out. I clasped Mick’s hand, said a prayer to any god who was listening, and reached for the storm that was now coming swiftly out of the mountains.

  The mirror shattered. The lovely, smooth sheet of glass Flora had restored cracked, and a piece shot out of its middle. The glass took the same crazed pattern it had worn before, a fragment falling from the frame.

  Emmett’s reflection shot across the cracks, and then he emerged from the mirror. He didn’t step or fly out, he simply solidified in front of us.

  He no longer looked like the gruesome, half-dead thing—his slim body and smooth face was restored, along with his suit. Why he cared about looking like this, I didn’t know, but if I’d learned nothing else about Emmett, I’d deduced that he was severely vain.

  He attacked. No waiting. Magic bolstered by Gabrielle’s Beneath power sliced directly toward me and Mick.

  Mick saved me by the straightforward method of tackling me to the ground. The Beneath magic slammed across the room and rendered the wall between the saloon and lobby rubble.

  “Damn it!” I yelled as I came to my feet. “I just had this place redone!”

  Emmett threw another bolt at me. The last time I’d fought him, out at Chaco Canyon, he’d conjured up all kinds of dark, malevolent spells designed to tear us apart from the inside out. Now he blasted away with Beneath magic alone, as though he’d used it all his life.

  I anchored myself with the coming storm and reached inside to release my
own Beneath magic, letting it flow up in a protective bubble around me and my friends. Emmett, without hesitation, began to hammer it down.

  But I’d learned something from Flora and her spell—that magic was stronger if mages banded together. Hence the reason I’d bolstered myself with two dragons, an excellent witch, and a strong Changer. Touching their magic, especially that of the dragons, helped ground me against my Beneath powers as well.

  Cassandra, seated at one of the tile-topped tables, Pamela protectively behind her, used her fingers to draw invisible sigils. I felt the air change, growing colder, flowing around her as though she created her own storm. Air and fire, Flora had called Cassandra’s magic. A wonderful combination.

  I let Cassandra get on with it and turned back to Emmett.

  Mick and I had a strategy—we’d decided that pointing and shooting wouldn’t work, but distraction and combining forces might. I reached for lightning that had come ever nearer the hotel, fed some of it to Cassandra to bolster her spell, and whacked Emmett with the rest of it.

  He batted the crackling energy aside. Drake and Mick, coming at him while he focused on me, sent fire at him, which Emmett again batted aside. Without waiting, I sent another strike of storm magic at him, followed by a ball of white Beneath light.

  Emmett opened his hands, gathered all the energies we’d thrown at him, and shot them through the roof Drake had just paid to refinish. I bit back a scream of frustration—those molded tin ceilings were expensive.

  Emmett brought his hands back down, a shield of magic between him and me, Mick, and Drake. “You can’t win this way,” he said calmly. “I’m too strong. Surrender, and I might be merciful.”

  Cassandra now sent the spell she’d been conjuring. It didn’t fire like my magic or the dragons’; it seeped around Emmett’s barrier and into him while he was focused on me.

  Emmett’s eyes widened, and his gaze shot to Cassandra. His shield weakened, and he flinched, his face graying.

  “Nice,” he said to Cassandra. “Turning my own blood to poison—diabolical and clever. No wonder Christianson wanted to hire you.”