Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5)(10)

On my hotel side of the parking lot, the shadow of a woman emerged from the hotel’s saloon. The saloon had just been rebuilt and refurbished after its last run-in with a dragon, who’d burned it down. To be fair, the dragon had then made all the arrangements to have it renovated, and he’d paid for everything. The construction had taken very little time, but then, Drake could be persuasive.

The young woman walking toward us, unerringly, was Gabrielle. She moved without her usual verve, and when she reached us she simply folded her arms and faded into the shadows with us.

“Cassandra yelled at me,” she said sullenly.

Cassandra, my tidy hotel manager who was a strong Wiccan witch, never yelled. But I knew what Gabrielle meant. No doubt Cassandra had explained to her, sternly, how a powerful mage should behave.

“Cassandra’s pretty smart,” I said.

“I’m not sorry I plastered those guys to the ceiling. But, okay, I get what Cassandra means about being subtle. Next time, I’ll turn them inside out quietly so cops from three different departments don’t converge on the scene.”

Mick’s voice was soft in the darkness. “Now, you’re catching on. Even better—the mere threat of such things can bring people in line pretty fast.”

Gabrielle considered this, then she unfolded her arms and put her hands into her back pockets. I noticed she was still wearing clothes she’d robbed from my closet up in Many Farms.

“You’re cute, Micky,” she said. “All you have to do is look at someone and they wet themselves in fear. They look at me and see a sweet-faced girl they think they can take advantage of. I have to assert myself.”

“You can do it without destroying buildings,” Mick pointed out.

Gabrielle sighed. “I suppose. What are you two doing out here, anyway? I thought you went to help Barry. I don’t think you’re catching on to how dates are supposed to go.” She broke off glumly. “Not that I’ve ever had one.”

I let Mick answer her, while I took in her rare confession of loneliness. “We’re doing surveillance,” Mick said. “Not easy to do while making out. Though it can be done.”

Could it? I gave him an interested look. “Barry has some suspicious clientele,” I told Gabrielle. “We’re waiting for them to come out.”

“They’d come out if you burned down the bar.” Gabrielle raised her hand, a spark dancing on her palm.

I broke from Mick’s embrace and put myself in front of her. “No.”

Gabrielle laughed and lowered her hand. “I was joking. You two are so easy.”

I wasn’t sure whether I believed her quick backdown. She could burn up the building without a second thought.

“If you want to help, then stay here and watch with us,” I said. “But quietly, all right?”

Gabrielle studied me with her dark gaze, her expression revealing nothing. Her rage of a few hours ago had gone. Either Cassandra’s lecture had been effective, or Gabrielle had chosen, with her lightning-swift changes of mood, to let it go.

She watched me a moment longer, then said, “All right,” folded her arms, and swung to face the bar.

From here, we could see both the front door and the path leading to the back. Barry kept the back door locked, though a determined demon wouldn’t care about locks.

It was nearly midnight before anything happened. Gabrielle grew bored, as I thought she would, but instead of abandoning us entirely, she slipped back to the hotel and brought us bottled water to keep us hydrated. Then she settled in to watch again.

Bikers began to drift away, though the bulk of them would remain until the bar closed at two. It would close exactly at two, no later, because Sheriff Jones made sure county hours were adhered to. He liked to catch violators and had trained his deputies to be on the lookout.

At twelve fifteen by the clock on Mick’s cell phone, the three demons emerged. They looked like ordinary bikers in leather jackets, chaps over jeans, and chunky boots.

They weren’t alone—our new friends John and Monica came out with them. From what I could see, neither Monica nor John were afraid or looked as though they’d been coerced. The five were talking and laughing like old friends. Monica and John headed for a big Harley to ride double, and the three demons glided their own bikes over to it. They were leaving together.

“Shit,” Mick said softly. My sentiments exactly.

“Why don’t you just flame them?” Gabrielle whispered to Mick. “Because they’re with normal, innocent humans?”

“I won’t flame them, yet,” Mick said. “Janet?”

“Let’s go,” I said.