Dreamwalker

by Allyson James

  Drake’s unease and determination that this was nothing but a dream vanished in a wash of rage.

  “Smith? This is his doing?” His eyes flashed fire, his fists balling. The dragon wing tatts on his back moved restlessly up his shoulders.

  “I think so,” I said. “I don’t know anyone else who could do a spell this hefty.”

  Drake’s fury didn’t die, but his voice calmed slightly. “To what end?”

  “To kill me and Mick and steal my mirror.”

  Drake’s puzzlement returned. “Why?”

  “Why? Because it’s a seriously magical talisman. If Emmett has it, he’ll be unstoppable.”

  “He is already enormously powerful, for a human,” Drake said. Why such an elaborate trick, when he could simply kill you and take the mirror?”

  “I don’t know. Because he likes drama? Or because Mick and I are hard to kill?”

  Three dragons screamed at us in a low pass, buzzing us like strafing aircraft. Drake tackled me, sending me to the ground, him on top of me.

  The dragons flew past, two flames arrowing in to blast Mick. Mick rolled out of the way, and the flames hit dead trees at the edge of the forest, setting them alight.

  I knew from living in dry country how quickly fires could spread. Before I could think hard about it, I brought out a ball of Beneath magic laced with storm lighting and threw it at the flames.

  I’d seen Gabrielle do this, and I hoped I’d figured out the technique. The Beneath magic hit the fire, surrounded it, and squashed it out like fire retardant.

  Before I could feel triumph, the dragons circled back, the two older ones right on Mick’s tail. He ducked with a sudden back-push of his wings, and the other two overshot him.

  Aine recovered first, turning on one wing like a giant seabird and heading straight for Mick. She attacked, mouth open, taking out a large chunk of Mick’s shoulder before he could spin away.

  By that time, Bancroft had banked and now arrowed straight for Mick, bringing his talons down on Mick’s back. At the same time, Aine darted in, her mouth closing over Mick’s sinuous neck. Mick thrashed, his tail smacking her, but Aine held on. Blood spurted from Mick’s neck and showered over Aine’s white hide, staining it scarlet.

  I screamed. Mick rolled and flailed, but Aine held on with tight jaws, Bancroft clawing through Mick’s back.

  All three of them fell, Mick’s wing catching a line of trees and flattening them as the dragons plummeted toward earth. They went down on the other side of the clearing, shaking the ground like an earthquake. Mick’s outstretched wing shattered with a sickening crunch of bone.

  I screamed again. My magic was ready to kill, and I sprinted for them.

  I’d never make it in time. The clearing was large, and Aine and Bancroft had landed on Mick and were starting to tear him apart.

  Drake was right behind me, but running with me. “This wasn’t what happened!” he shouted, as though that would stop the dragons. “This isn’t what happens!”

  “What did happen?” I yelled back at him.

  “Mick bested them.” Drake’s words came at me as he passed me, his legs longer, his muscular body in the best training. “He won his point. This time, they’re killing him.”

  I tried to increase my speed, but even in a dream, I panted and gasped, trying to keep up with Drake. He ran like an athlete, the dragon tatts on his back moving as he sprinted toward the carnage. Dimly I knew it would take him longer to turn dragon than to simply run, but I wished he’d sweep me up and fly me over there.

  Aine and Bancroft were peeling Mick’s hide from his bones. Mick fought, snapping and snarling, catching them with claws and teeth.

  I gathered all the magic I possessed, grabbed at the lightning and hail, and hugged them to me. I shot enough magic at the ground to lift me and sail me through the air to land just behind Drake.

  “Stop!” Drake was shouting at the dragons. “You must stop!”

  Bancroft turned around and shot a ball of fire at him.

  I jumped in front of Drake, shoving him aside and taking the ball of fire fully on myself.

  The flames eagerly surrounded me and bit into me, plunging me into a furnace. My voice died, not even letting me cry out as my skin began to melt.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I was dying. Flames ate my body and liquefied my skin. I couldn’t even scream.

  Even so, Mick sensed my anguish somehow. Through the red of the fire I saw him lift his head and look at me, just before my sight failed. I heard him bellow in rage and grief, and then I heard nothing, felt only pain so great it had no meaning.

  I tried to draw on my Beneath magic, to dampen the fire as I had on the trees. Nothing happened. I didn’t know if I could do nothing because this was a dream, or the dragon fire had destroyed me too much for there to be a me anymore.

  If the dragon fire consumed me in this dream, would I awaken? Would I be lying in my bed, with Mick and my friends surrounding me as they had the first time? Or was killing me in a dream Emmett’s only hope of taking the mirror?

  Sweet dreams, Janet, he’d said.

  I seemed to hear Emmett’s voice even now. “Don’t move,” he said in his cold tones.

  Was he talking to Drake? I certainly couldn’t move as I burned to ash.

  Something hit me. I felt cool earth on my face, then another wash of pain roared through my body. I gasped and inhaled dirt.

  Then I floated upward, agony dragging through me. But it was the pain of my heart beating, my blood flowing, air flushing into my lungs. My skin solidified and swept back over muscle and bone until it was whole, tight, and clean.

  Sight, sound, and smell came back to me, as well as taste. I spit dirt from my mouth and blinked at the flash of fire on a pristine pair of eyeglasses.

  Emmett stood in front of me, his tie not even crooked. “You back with me, Janet?”

  I took a long breath—that didn’t burn—spit out more dirt, and said, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He gave me a cool smile. “I’ll take that as a yes. Fireballs smart, don’t they?”

  I recalled Emmett exiting his limo after Mick had flamed it, brushing off his coat as though merely annoyed. Had his skin fried off his bones with the same searing pain I’d felt before his spell saved him?

  At the moment, I wasn’t much interested. “Mick,” I choked.

  Aine and Bancroft were killing him. Drake had gone dragon and even now was attacking Bancroft in Mick’s defense, but I knew it was too late.

  I gathered the storm to me once more and reached for the Beneath magic, ready to blast Aine and Bancroft to dust.

  “That won’t work,” Emmett said quickly. “Not with dragons. They’ll eat the storm magic, and your Beneath magic isn’t strong enough this far from the vortex.”

  My hands glowed, magic pulsing through my blood, fueled by rage. “What does work? Tell me now.”

  “Nothing. Dragons are hard to kill. They intake magic of all kinds and rapidly heal themselves. Only a dragon or a god can kill another dragon.”

  I’d known that. But Emmett was the most powerful mage in the world. Who knew what he could do?

  “Concentrate on saving Mick, not killing the dragons,” he said.

  I stopped. As much as I hated taking advice from a ruthlessly dangerous man like Emmett, he was right. A fledgling Stormwalker wasn’t going to best two of the toughest dragons on the planet.

  Mick, on the other hand, ate my storm magic for breakfast and declared himself stronger for it. “Help me,” I snapped at Emmett and darted forward.

  I had no idea if Emmett would do anything to assist me or not. But, if it was in his best interest to see me and Mick die, why had he just saved me? And hinted at how I could save Mick?

  I tamped my Beneath magic down to the tiny spark from which it had begun, then swept up lightning now happily raging above the trees. I sprinted the last distance to Mick, crackling with electricity, and ducked under the attacking dragons.

&n
bsp; Drake had drawn off Bancroft, who screamed in fury and struck Drake with outraged intensity. Aine, on the other hand, concentrated on disemboweling Mick.

  I was tempted to yell Get away from him, you bitch! But I saved my breath for what I needed to do.

  I dove under Aine’s descending talons, slammed both hands to Mick’s hide, and let out the lightning.

  Mick’s huge body jumped and crackled, ropes of electricity crawling all over him. Aine let go in irritation, but she drew in some of the lightning. I reached for more of the storm, laughing as it filled me, and let it all go into Mick.

  Want me to draw it off? he’d always say to me, with the wicked gleam in his eyes. He’d let the residual trickle of my magic drift into his fingers as he so warmly caressed my skin.

  Come on, Mick.

  Mick writhed beneath Aine, lightning burning in blue arcs all over his black and red body. He rolled onto his back, one talon coming up, and sliced into Aine’s white hide.

  She shrieked and beat the air, rising just high enough to be out of his reach. Red blood poured from her belly, hot droplets raining down on my skin.

  Mick gathered more strength. He struck at Aine again, but she danced out of the way, bellowing in pain and fury. Mick’s wing lay broken at his side—he couldn’t fly to fight her.

  Aine, as though realizing what I was doing, swung from Mick and aimed at me. Her fireball came at me, and I threw up my hands, as though that would deflect it.

  A second stream of fire cut across Aine’s, sending it sideways into the woods. Drake had come to my rescue. Again, the trees caught, and again, a spell slammed it out. Not my magic this time, but Emmett’s.

  Aine, thoroughly enraged, wheeled on her outstretched wings, avoided another line of Mick’s fire, and went after Drake.

  “Mick!” I shouted.

  He was surrounded by lightning, the red in his dragon hide pulsating like his tatts did when he was human. His head came around, great black dragon eyes pinning me. I read vast pain in them and also vast anger. Mick was seriously pissed off at me.

  “Do your healing thing,” I shouted at him. “Please.” I’d seen him shroud himself in the dark mist dragons used for healing or shifting and emerge unscathed.

  “He might be too far gone,” Emmett said behind me, as calm as ever. I bet his glasses weren’t even smudged.

  “I don’t want your commentary,” I snarled at him. “Either help him or shut up.”

  “I can save Mick the man,” Emmett said. “But maybe not Mick the dragon. Or the other way around.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Emmett lifted one hand and sliced the air. “He’s two-natured. He’s learned to be human, embraced it, and more than just for convenience. He’s now as much man as dragon. I can separate the two. One will live, and one will die.”

  I remembered Drake explaining in his clinical voice in my hotel lobby that the only way a dragon could take a human lifespan was to split the dragon part of him from the human. No one could do that, he’d said, except a god. Now Emmett was saying he could do that very thing.

  Mick snaked his head to Emmett, the wrath in his eyes growing. I quickly stepped between the two.

  “No,” I said sharply to Emmett.

  Emmett’s eyes flashed. “No choice. He’s not strong enough to heal himself. I promise I’ll show you how to put him back together again.”

  Oh sure, because Emmett was so trustworthy.

  At that moment, Aine wheeled above us and plunged at Mick, determined to kill. Drake was currently fighting Bancroft for his life—no help there.

  Mick rolled away from us and rose on his back legs to meet Aine. He jumped, trying to get airborne, but his broken wing sagged to the ground. He snarled and lashed out, fighting hard, but Aine was less injured than he was, and strong. Her cut abdomen was a flesh wound to a dragon.

  I turned on Emmett. “Damn you. Save him.”

  Emmett bunched his fists, closed his eyes, and let his body go rigid. Aine struck out at Mick and ripped her claws through his wing that was still whole. Shreds of dragon flew out into the air and fell in blackened bits. Mick didn’t even cry out, his dragon jaw clenched in pain.

  I drew a breath to yell at Emmett again when he opened his eyes. Those eyes had gone silver all the way across, making me know for certain that his glasses were only for show.

  Emmett uncurled his fists, brought his hands, palms together, straight out in front of him, and jerked his arms apart.

  Mick shrieked. The scream went on and on, a horrible sound that vibrated every iota of the air. The storm answered, fingers of lightning finding trees and exploding them into flame.

  Aine sprang back as Mick’s body rippled, undulating in black waves so fierce that he threw a ring of dead trees, brush, and old ash in a wide circle around him. Aine beat her wings, lifting backwards as Mick thrashed.

  Beyond them, Bancroft broke from Drake, but he didn’t come to see what was happening. He arrowed off into the night, pursued by Drake.

  Aine screeched again. She angled her head to look down at the small humans on the ground, then recoiled as her gaze fixed on Emmett. She jerked back, and I swear I saw fear in her ice-green eyes. Aine turned in midair and headed for the sky, dodging lightning strikes as she went.

  Mick was still keening. His tail dislodged a stand of trees that had caught fire from the lightning, scattering them like straw.

  “Stop!” I yelled at Emmett. Tears stung my face, and my throat was raw. “You’re killing him.”

  “No,” Emmett said without looking at me. “I’m saving him. The dragon is dying.”

  The mist of dragon darkness gathered around Mick. He continued to fight and flail, but his body gradually disappeared behind the thick cloud.

  The darkness solidified around him like a cocoon. I watched in shock, my heart pounding. The storm increased its intensity, lightning filling the sky, one strike following immediately after the other. Thunder rolled continuously, one rumble overriding the next. Wind from the storm reached the clearing, and an icy breeze tore at my hair.

  Emmett said nothing, did nothing. He merely stood, his arms lowering to his sides, his eyes opaque.

  Another blast of lighting struck the ground twenty feet from the cocoon. The boom of thunder made me shout, and then it deafened me.

  The storm had hold of me. Lightning thrust up through me, coming out my hands, lifting me from the ground. I was a Stormwalker in the heart of the storm, with nothing to stop me—no Beneath magic, no Coyote.

  I turned and blasted my full power at Emmett.

  I was pleased that I made him step off balance. He shot me an annoyed look from behind the lightning, then shielded himself, sending the lightning bouncing harmlessly into the dirt around him.

  Emmett yelled something, but I couldn’t hear him. His mouth opened wider, his face reddened, and he glared at me as he pointed at the cocoon.

  I finally understood—he wanted me to hit the cocoon with the lightning. I hesitated. I didn’t trust Emmett and had no idea what was going on behind the darkness. My heart was tearing out of my chest, Mick dying in front of me, and I had no idea how to help him.

  Emmett drew another breath to shout. I still couldn’t hear him, but I could read his lips. “Do it!”

  Forgive me, Mick, I whispered silently, then I let the lightning fly.

  It struck the cocoon and broke it open. Fragments of obsidian exploded outward, cutting me and Emmett as they flew by. Tiny streaks of blood decorated Emmett’s face, and I felt the bite on mine.

  The cocoon blew apart in a steady stream, shards of volcanic rock and glass flying out faster and faster until both Emmett and I had to dive to the ground, shielding ourselves from the deadly rain. My lightning continued to flare from my hands, digging a little furrow from my outstretched fingers to the trees.

  Then, with one last crash of thunder, the storm died. Rain fell, the wind carried the clouds away, breaking them apart.

  A teari
ng sound came from where the cocoon had been. I raised my head to see a dragon emerge from the mess, stumbling and dazed. His wings were whole again, but the fire had gone from his eyes.

  He looked around, head turning on his long neck. His gaze rested on me and Emmett beside me, but there was no recognition there—not only of who we were but of what we were.

  The dragon turned from us, eyes black and devoid of intelligence. It lifted itself on ungainly wings and soared upward, caught the wind, dipped once, then flapped away into the darkness.

  A groan jerked my attention back to earth. A man sat in the circle of broken obsidian and apache’s tears, his arms around his knees. He was naked, his skin tanned but clear, no tatts marking him.

  Mick raised his head, unruly black hair caught by the wind. His eyes were blue in the darkness, no hint of dragon in them.

  “Janet,” he said in a rasping voice. “What did you do to me?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I scrambled to my feet, mud plastered down my front, and ran to him. Mick was huddled in on himself, his body no different except for the lack of tattoos, but the fear in his eyes as he looked up at me was stark.

  I put my hand on his back. His skin was ice-cold, and both of us flinched.

  “You shouldn’t …” Mick began. “You can’t know …”

  “That you’re a dragon? No, I didn’t know.” My heart was hammering, but my blood was sluggish with worry. “We need to get you inside, and warm. Emmett …”

  I turned to tell Emmett to give his clothes to Mick, but Emmett was gone. I scanned the clearing, but no, the man had vanished.

  “Coward!” I yelled into the air.

  “What the hell did you do to me?” Mick repeated.

  He was still on the ground, but he’d lifted his head, rage in his eyes. And betrayal, I realized. He thought he’d been wrong about me—that I was evil after all.

  “I didn’t do this,” I said quickly. “I can’t handle magics like that. It was Emmett. He saved your life.”

  Mick gave me an incredulous look. “By splitting me in two? Not life,” he snarled. “Living death.”