I figured it might be something like that. Colby had once had a fling with the mistress of a dragon called Farrell, the head of the dragon council. That deed had landed him in plenty of trouble.
Bancroft was second-in-command of the tri-part dragon council, and headed the dragon compound in Santa Fe. Bancroft had never struck me as the playboy type—too cold—but then, neither had Farrell.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Well, I might have given a copy to his mate,” Colby said.
“Oh, great. That can’t have gone over well.”
“And then I might have emailed copies to everyone in the book.”
“Colby.” Because the dragon population didn’t contain that many females, all the women in the book were probably human. They probably also didn’t know Bancroft was a dragon or about the other ladies in the picture. Bancroft must have had some fun after that.
“Crap on a crutch,” I said. “Do all dragons cheat on their mates?”
“No!” Drake and Mick answered at the same time.
Colby laughed again, the laugh ending in a cough. “Bancroft’s full of himself. He thinks he can do anything he wants. I showed him he couldn’t. Thus, my punishment.”
“I think he’s had enough,” I said. “Don’t you, Drake? You don’t think Bancroft was being just—I see it in your face.”
“Perhaps not,” Drake said quietly. “But he is my employer.”
“Tell Bancroft that tonight Colby went above and beyond the call of duty for a dragon, and so I commanded you to free him.” I gave Drake a smile. “If you don’t, I can always talk to Bancroft myself, or I can let Gabrielle persuade you.”
Drake glanced to where Gabrielle was arguing with my grandmother and Elena, and his face lost a little color.
“Fine.” He stood up, his body gleaming like one of Jamison’s sculptures. “I’ll leave Colbinilicarium in your hands, and report that you and Micalerianicum forced the issue.”
Without further word, Drake dropped out of the pickup, walked off into the desert, became dragon in the darkness, and winged away east.
“Aw, thanks, Janet,” Colby said, reaching for my hand and squeezing it. “Now, how about a bed for the night? And some aspirin? I still feel like shit.”
* * *
Nash agreed to drive Colby and Elena back to my hotel while I went to Many Farms with Grandmother and Gabrielle in my dad’s truck, which had mercifully escaped damage. Mick gave me a long kiss and departed to fly Ansel home before sunrise.
I hadn’t seen Coyote at all since he’d awakened me. He’d completely vanished, as usual. I didn’t worry as much about him this time, as I drove away from the canyon, heading for the road that would take us to Farmington. He’d be back.
Gabrielle sulked through the long drive, which worried me a little, but Grandmother was perfectly serene. Gabrielle cheered up when we finally halted in front of the little house I’d grown up in, the lights in the windows a warm welcome.
Gabrielle ran inside ahead of us, while I waited to help Grandmother descend and make her slower way in.
“Janet was amazing,” Gabrielle was saying to my father and Gina when we entered the house. “Did you see that dust storm? Janet rode it and made it her bitch.”
“Gabrielle,” Grandmother said disapprovingly.
“Then we kicked some dark mage ass,” Gabrielle said, ignoring her. “It was awesome. They got away, but we’ll get them another day. I’m hitting the showers. I stink. Bah-bye, Janet. Call me when Colby gets better.”
I suppressed a shiver as she sauntered down the hall and slammed the door of the bathroom. Gabrielle and Colby—that would be trouble on the hoof. Or the wing.
Gods, Gabrielle reminded me of . . . me.
My father said nothing at all. He only watched me in silence while I fetched some water from the kitchen and Gina walked with my suddenly tired grandmother down the hall to her bedroom.
I came out of the kitchen. “Dad,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
He approached me without changing expression, but when he put his hands on my shoulders, his dark eyes were moist. “You do what you have to do, my daughter.”
My dad has never been one to be overly demonstrative, but the way he squeezed down on my shoulders now conveyed his worry and also his love.
When he released me, giving me the lightest of pats, I also understood that he was making himself let me go.
I had a long ride ahead of me back to Magellan, so I finished my glass of water and prepared to leave. I could have crashed on the couch for the night, but I wanted my big bed, the safety of my warded and guarded hotel, and I wanted Mick.
I said goodbye to my father in our usual, understated way that spoke volumes, and left him.
Gina came out before I could start my bike. She glanced at the house where my father could be seen moving through the living room, then she leaned close to speak to me so her voice wouldn’t carry.
“It’s hardest on those who love the special ones. And you’re special, daughter of my husband-to-be.”
“I didn’t choose this,” I said, my throat tight.
Gina nodded. She was a bit like Bear, but she was human, and here. “He understands. Just love him.”
“I do. For so long, he was the only one who believed in me.”
“He still does,” Gina said. “And I believe in him.”
“Thank you.”
I spoke in Diné, and Gina responded in kind. “Take care, daughter.”
I rode away, unshed tears blurring my eyes, the storms in the distance rolling off to reveal the gentle night.
I rode quietly through Many Farms and back south on the highway through dark, beautiful Navajo lands to the flat plane of the I-40. The magic mirror, now awake, kept me company by singing.
* * *
Mick was waiting for me in our private quarters, and he started skimming off my clothes before the bedroom door even closed. He took me into the shower, washed me all over, made love to me against the wall, and carried me to bed.
He made love to me again, drawing off the lingering magic that still made my head ache, and healed me with soothing spells.
When I felt better, I loved him back with renewed energy. We wound up into climax together, erotic excitement spinning us higher and higher until we crashed back onto the bed, breathless and laughing. Then we spooned together under the sheet, Mick touching my body with gentle fingers, while I drifted to sleep, safe and warm.
I slept a long time the next day, not waking and rising until later in the afternoon.
I realized, as I had another shower then busily devoured a meal Elena prepared specially for me, that I still had problems to solve.
“Such as, where is Laura?” I asked Mick as he sat next to me in the kitchen. He folded his tattooed arms on the table as he watched me eat, as though he wanted to make sure I took every bite. “That’s what started all this. Ansel still doesn’t know, and Paige still has a bounty out on Ansel.”
“We’ll find her,” Mick said with confidence. “When Ansel wakes up, we’ll talk it over, and we’ll figure it out.”
“You don’t have to worry about Laura,” Elena said. She tossed a handful of onions into a sauté pan, the fragrance of onions and butter wafting toward us. “She’s safe.”
I blinked at her. “You know where she is?”
“Yes. She’s staying with one of my friends up in Whiteriver.”
Mick looked at her with as much surprise as I did. “In Whiteriver?” I got to my feet. “With one of your friends. Why the hell didn’t you tell us you knew where she was?”
Elena gave me a slow look while she tossed the onions in the pan. “She asked me not to, and unlike some people, I can keep a promise. She turned up here about a week ago, worried about Ansel. She told me that a dark mage, or something worse, might be after her, and she wanted to warn Ansel. Well, I said, if a dark mage is chasing you, this hotel is the first place he’ll look. So I drove her up to Whiteriver, and had her st
ay with a friend, another shaman. I didn’t tell you, so that one of you wouldn’t let it slip. I planned to fetch her back when the danger was over. We can go tonight, when Ansel is awake.”
Finished, Elena turned her back on us to core and slice up a green pepper.
“Ansel was worried sick about her,” I said. “You could have told him, at least? And it would have been helpful to ask Laura what she’d done with the real vessel.”
Elena’s knife went through the pepper in even strokes. “Ansel is a Nightwalker. How could I know whether he was worried for the woman’s safety or wanted to kill her to protect himself? You found out what she’d done with the pot all on your own. Her part was finished, and I saw no reason to drag her back into danger. Now that I’ve had time to observe Ansel, I believe his feelings for her are genuine.”
“Is that why you were guarding him so closely? To decide whether he had integrity?”
“Partly.”
She went back to the pepper, which she finished chopping and threw into the pan. Oil hissed, the sound drowning out my, “Elena.”
Elena totally ignored me. Mick and I exchanged a long glance, and he shook his head.
I supposed Elena had been right. If I or Ansel or Mick—or anyone—had known Laura’s whereabouts, Pericles might have picked it out of us. Ansel had worried about her, but better he worry for nothing than Laura die because Pericles or Emmett had found her.
The kitchen phone rang. Elena cut into another pepper in silence. I waved Mick back as he stood to get the phone, heaved myself up, and answered it.
“It’s Rory,” Rory said. “I’m at the bar. We need to talk.”
He hung up before I could say a word.
“Want me to deal with him?” Mick asked as I returned to the table. He’d heard.
“No.” I shoveled in the last of my sweet corn tamales, drank some water, and wiped my mouth. “I want to do this myself.” I gave him a brief kiss on the lips, one that promised much more later, and he let me go.
* * *
Rory the slayer nursed a beer at a table in the middle of Barry’s bar. The Crossroads Bar was full this late in the afternoon, bikers from all over the southwest and into California liking Barry’s place. This was neutral ground, by tacit agreement, no wars allowed.
Rory’s crossbow hung from a hook on the back of his chair. I sat down facing him, folding my hands on the table.
“You owe me seven thousand dollars,” he said.
I didn’t flinch. “Where is Paige’s boyfriend? The Nightwalker called Bobby?”
“Sheriff took him from me,” Rory said, looking disgusted. “I made the mistake of telling your pretty hotel manager that I had him, and she called the sheriff. Sheriff came and got him, taking my Nightwalker safety box and all, saying he wanted to get Bobby for murder.” Rory shook his head. “Arresting a Nightwalker for murder. Is he crazy?”
“Yes,” I said. “But seeing as you don’t have the goods, I see no reason to give you seven thousand dollars.”
Rory reddened. “Don’t even think about reneging on me.”
“The Sheriff’s department might give you a reward for bringing in a fugitive. If you ask nicely.”
Rory glared at me. “You cheating bitch.”
“While we’re talking, I’m calling off the bounty on Ansel. Paige hired you because she thought Ansel had murdered her sister, and now it turns out her sister is fine and safe. So the hunt is over. Please spread the word around the slayer community that Ansel is not to be touched.”
Rory listened first in surprise, then disgust. He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way, honey.”
“No?”
“No. I don’t just hunt for bounty. Nightwalkers shouldn’t be allowed to live. When I find one, I kill him, bounty or no bounty.”
“Change your policy,” I said.
“Fuck you.”
I leaned over the table to Rory, losing my smile and fixing him with my grandmother’s best stare. “Listen very carefully. I want you to leave Hopi County today. Now, in fact. Don’t come back here hunting Nightwalkers or anything else—ever.”
“No, you listen to me,” Rory said in the same tone. “I found that Nightwalker, I stashed him for you instead of killing him, and now you owe me seven grand. You give it to me, or you’re the next body in the box.”
Barry appeared at table, setting a cold bottle of beer in front of me and leaving his big hand on it. “Trouble, Janet?”
I gave him a sweet smile. “Nothing I can’t handle. You have a fire extinguisher handy?”
Barry lost his answering smile. “Aw, shit,” he said, and moved quickly back behind the bar.
“Fire extinguisher?” Rory asked.
“Yes. In case something goes wrong when I do this.”
I was off my seat and had Rory’s crossbow in my hand before he realized I’d moved. It was a nicely made weapon, engineered to fire with strength, but light, with a good grip and a smooth draw.
Rory grabbed for the crossbow, but I tossed it upward and blasted it with a tiny burst of Beneath magic.
The crossbow, though made primarily of metal, exploded into flames. The weapon burned merrily in midair for about five seconds, then the fire vanished and the remains of the crossbow dropped to the floor as a pile of ash.
Rory leapt from his chair. “Damn you, bitch. That cost a me fortune.” He yelled it, and then he went very quiet.
The explosion had jolted the attention of the bikers. Every one of them drew, and every one of them cocked.
I turned to the room and held up my hands. “Easy, guys. It’s just me.”
Though I was only the small Navajo woman who ran the hotel across the parking lot, the bikers had come to treat me with wariness, if not complete respect. Dangerous things happened around me, and I knew dangerous people, like Mick. They muttered, eased back on triggers, and sat back down.
“But you can do me a favor,” I said to them. “This man here is bothering me. I’d love it if some of you could escort him out. And tell him never to come back. And if he does come back, he’s all yours.”
There was murmuring, and laughter. Rory went pale.
I sat back down and sipped the beer Barry had brought me. “I’d get out of here while I still could.”
Rory gave me a final dirty look, but he knew when his odds were bad. He walked out through the bar like he didn’t give a damn about the bikers, but I noticed that he walked fast.
Ten of the guys followed him. I set my beer aside, thanked Barry, who was heading to the table with a broom to sweep up the ashes, and departed.
When I emerged to the parking lot, I had the joy of watching Rory the slayer speed off on his motorcycle toward Winslow and the setting sun like all the hounds of hell were after him.
* * *
Mick and I accompanied Elena and Ansel to Whiteriver after Ansel awoke from his day sleep. Elena borrowed Cassandra’s car for herself and Ansel—and Laura, if she decided to return with them—while Mick and I rode double on Mick’s Harley.
I loved this, snuggling into Mick’s warm body as we raced down the open road under the stars toward the summits that made up Rim Country. The air turned cooler as we reached the higher elevations, then we made the turn at Showlow to take us south to the Apache reservation and Whiteriver.
Naomi had called me this afternoon while I filled in Cassandra on what had happened with the pot and tried to return to a little hotel business. Julie’s hearing was still intact, Naomi said, sounding both hopeful and fearful of that hope. I couldn’t tell her whether Julie’s cure would be permanent. The talisman had vanished only last night, and perhaps its influence simply hadn’t faded yet.
But the magic had originally come from Bear, and surely Bear wouldn’t hurt Julie like that.
Then again, what had I truly known of the goddess? She’d been kind in her quiet way, but the power that had come from her last night had frightened me almost as much as any that emanated from my mother. Terrifying in a different w
ay, but just as deadly. We would just have to watch Julie and see.
Elena’s friend lived in a long and low trailer house set back among trees on the other side of Whiteriver. The yard in front of it was dark, but lights glowed from the small windows, and we heard a television playing.
Ansel was out of the truck before Elena even stopped it, his Nightwalker speed taking him to the little porch and up into the trailer. I heard a cry and the sound of something falling.
I hopped off Mick’s big bike, dragged off my helmet, and dashed inside in time to see Ansel lifting a woman off her feet in a hard embrace. Laura looked much like her photo, with her athletic body, brown-blond hair, and pretty face, but now her smile beamed a joy that made her beautiful.
A small, plump Apache woman watched expressionlessly from the kitchen as Laura hugged Ansel and kissed his thin face. The woman didn’t acknowledge me, but gave Elena a nod and cast a brow-lifting glance at Mick as we crowded into the trailer.
“You’re all right,” Ansel said in his gentle, English voice, tears wetting his face. The tears were pink, mixed with blood—Nightwalker tears. “Love, you’re all right.”
Elena pushed past me, heading for her friend in the kitchen, but Mick wrapped an arm around me and tugged me back outside with him.
The night was quiet, crickets singing under the trees, cicadas calling, tree frogs chirping. In the distance, a coyote yowled then trailed off into a series of yips.
Mick walked me back to the bike, our footsteps muffled by fallen leaves. The weather was cool here, the breeze like a feather touch.
Mick leaned back on his bike seat and pulled me close, opening his legs around mine. Through the window, I could see Laura and Ansel still embracing, Ansel kissing her lips.
“Mmm,” Mick said, his arms warm around me. “A Nightwalker and a human woman. That’s going to be a challenge for them.”
“Like a Stormwalker and a dragon?”
Mick turned me to him, hands on the small of my back. I touched his cheek, my turquoise and silver ring sliding against his unshaven whiskers.
From Jennifer Ashley, With Love: Three Paranormal Romances from Bestselling Series Page 41
