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Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5)(15)

By:Allyson James & Jennifer Ashley


“I hadn’t.” That was true. The first time I’d climbed on my bike and hit the road by myself, I’d made it only as far as Nevada before I’d found big trouble. Mick had taken me out of that trouble, and the rest was history. “I don’t mean I came here without you. I mean ...”

His eyes were definitely blacker. Mick tried to hide it, which was weird. I knew he was a dragon underneath it all, had been born one in the heart of a volcano somewhere near Hawaii.

Then again, when I’d been here with him the first time, I hadn’t known that.

Dear gods and goddesses. This wasn’t déjà vu, this was me actually living it over again. Some kind of time travel? Time warp? Time bending? I had no freaking clue. Science fiction stuff left me baffled.

Or a spell? I remembered, though the memory was fading, the flash of Emmett Smith’s eyes before all had gone dark. What the hell had that dickwad done to me?

I also remembered Emmett standing outside my hotel after Mick had flamed his limo, the man calmly brushing off his suit. He’d smiled at me and said, “Sweet dreams, Janet.”

Dreams.

Oh holy fucking shit. This wasn’t me reliving this event, down to the last detail. This was my memory, from the road trip Mick and I had taken together after we’d met, when he’d showed me the vastness of the country I lived in. I was dredging up this day from the depths of my mind, replaying it but squarely inside it, as though living it the first time. That was why I couldn’t find my ring—Mick wouldn’t give it to me until five and a half years in our future.

Except, Mick was reacting to the me as I was now, to the Janet looking around in stunned surprise. He hadn’t done that the first time.

So, maybe I was reliving it. Maybe Emmett had plucked the scene from my brain somehow and sent me back in time. Or he’d sent me into some kind of sleep where my dreams segued with reality and became one.

I had no idea—complicated magic was beyond me. I knew how to ride storms and create a few simple spells. Messing with people’s minds was not in my scope.

Whatever was going on, I knew two things—first, that Emmett was behind it. Second, I needed to wake up.

I returned my attention to Mick, who was still contemplating me in wariness. The spark in his eyes told me he was about to grab me, haul me outside, and shake me upside down until the demon that possessed me fell out.

I eased out my breath, forcing myself to relax. If this was a dream, then why worry? I was with Mick, in that golden time when I’d been falling in love with him, when he’d protected me and cared for me, before any trouble had started between us. In this place and in this moment, I’d felt happy and safe.

I lifted my hands. “Forget it. I just had that weird feeling you get, you know? When you think you’ve done something twice? I bet I saw an ad for this place on the road.”

“Mmm.” Mick gave me a nod, then sent a grateful look to the waitress who poured coffee into his cup.

Mick began asking her if the omelets really were all different from one another and ended up ordering twelve. Just as I remembered ...

***

We rode out that day, heading westward through South Dakota toward its border with Wyoming. As we flowed down the road I remembered more and more about this time, not only the beautiful sights of the West, but the feelings I’d experienced at that point in my life.

I followed Mick, he on his large Harley modified to accommodate his bulk, me on the Sportster that, while it vibrated me to pieces, I’d loved. It had been wrecked forever when it had fallen into a sinkhole near Flat Mesa, and I’d grown nostalgic for it. I loved riding it again, remembering every quirk of its personality.

I’d also missed watching Mick hunker low into the wind, his black hair flying every which way. In states with helmet laws, he wore a matte black half helmet, which only made him look more bad-ass than ever. He’d taught me how to shift positions on my bike so I wouldn’t grow too fatigued, including balancing on my seat with my feet behind me. Mick also liked to stop a lot, because every single thing we passed was fascinating to him.

Today, it was the Badlands of South Dakota, the jagged peaks of hills that stretched across a barren and stark valley, reminding me of the valleys around Many Farms. The land wasn’t quite the same, but the vista made me homesick.

I thought about the Crossroads Hotel I’d come to love, along with all the crazy people in my life. I wanted to wake up so I could be with them, but then again …

In this dream, I had Mick all to myself. It was the way it used to be—he and I riding side by side, heading down the road just to see where it led.

Mick soon left the freeway, just as I remembered, and took me down back roads deep into the heart of the country. In South Dakota that meant vast farms surrounded by land quietly rising into the Black Hills.