Instead, Laire did what Fallon would want her to do, what was needed to make their world right again. She pursed her lips and tossed out in her most smartass manner, “Does all this decision-making include deciding to kick evil’s ass and annoy people as we go along?”
The small vulnerability left Fallon, and the swagger returned as she began walking again. “Hells yeah.”
“That’s all I need know.” Laire fell into step again, and they made their way toward the street. “Please tell me you brought the motorcycle. I have a desire to pull alongside cars full of guys and make out with you to torment them, then we laugh and ride away.”
“I brought the motorcycle.”
“Yay!” And there it was, black and shiny and a thing of beauty, and after Laire hopped on behind Fallon, arms wrapped around the swordswoman’s waist and Spellbook secure, the mage leaned in and said, voice as low and sincere as it had ever been and sincere in a way she would not allow herself to be again for a long while, said, “You know, if you switched sides, my dating pool would be wide open. No more turning people down for that whole being evil thing.”
Fallon turned her head away, but not so quick that Laire missed the upward curl of the corner of her mouth. After waiting for a final car to pass, Fallon pulled out into traffic, and together they sped away.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
‡
“Fallon. A moment, if you please.”
Fallon paused in her journey through the hallway so Tec could reach her. “What’s up?”
“I have a question about the Spellbook.” Tec’s gingery curls gave a small bounce as he stopped beside her, and Fallon squelched the momentary desire to ruffle his hair. Wulver kept telling her that was a bad idea, and she listened to let him cling to the idea he had authority. “About its safety.”
“Why wouldn’t it be safe? Laire gave it to you, right?”
“Yes…yes, of course. Of course she did.”
Sirens blared through Fallon’s head at Tec’s stuttery reaction. In fact, the whole conversation, including Tec approaching her, was not quite right. It was only a few words, but it was a few words of different than usual, and right now anything different than usual was not going to be tolerated. “And you gave it to Kyo like I told you earlier?”
“He was very pleased to have it in his possession.”
Fallon grabbed the imposter by the throat and heaved him against the wall. “Who are you?”
How the hells had someone breached headquarters again? There was a flicker, and a moment before the fake Tec disappeared, a split-second shadow of Amana was visible.
She’s in my dream.
The revelation no sooner reverberated through Fallon’s skull then the scenery changed, a forest now surrounding her, autumn painting the trees multi-hued and decay heavy in the air, and no matter which way she turned, only a single path to travel. To go forward, to move ahead, and there was no other way, no matter how her body begged her to flee.
Squaring her shoulders, Fallon began the trek upwards, her long legs eating up the distance, travelling the easy trail with no issues.
Something startled within the forest, sending creatures in all directions. Fallon glanced over her shoulder, her gold eyes probing before she turned and headed once again up the wooded trail.
There was nothing special about the trail. It could be any easy climb in any wooded area, and there was nothing memorable enough about it that Amana could pinpoint the locale.
Fallon knew the area though. She moved with easy memory and no hesitation, stroking trees as she passed, and now…
Now Fallon stopped in front of one particular tree. This one she didn’t caress, didn’t reach out her hand. Instead she seemed lost as she eyed a spot where layers of bark had been ripped from the trunk, echoes of melancholy memory shining in the redhead’s eyes.
A hazy mist blanketed the forest now as Fallon turned back to the path. Icy tendrils of wind and water trailed over Amana’s skin as she followed where the warrior led. Black and deadened branches reached for her, scraping over her as she passed, the dreamscape growing darker and closer and filling her with uneasiness. Fallon was supposed to be the one trapped, but now Amana fought the building horrific certainty that she had opened a cell which should never have been disturbed.
Ahead the trees grew closer together, the branches reaching and entwining to create a tunnel effect, with a natural canopy of wood and leaf above them. Fallon forged ahead, travelling through the large tunnel and passing through the opening at the end of the path, clearing the forest and reaching whatever lay beyond.
Claws descended in front of the opening, and Amana jumped back in horror. Each claw was taller than she was and twice as wide, and beyond, through the openings of the razor sharp appendages, a nostril so large it could inhale her situated in a reptilian snout, the scales a shimmery silver over deep green, and smoke emanating from the nostril trailing into the sky.