Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5)(55)

When I’d first moved to Magellan, I’d come to investigate the disappearance of Amy, the chief of police’s daughter. She’d also been Nash’s fiancée.

I frowned as I tried to keep everything straight. Maya and Nash had been an item until Nash had returned from Iraq. Their breakup after that had been volatile, especially when Nash had announced his intention to run for sheriff. He’d then turned, rather suddenly, to Amy.

I’d thought he’d gone to Amy later than this, only a year or so before she disappeared, but then, this was a dream. Timelines often didn’t make sense in the ramblings of the brain.

But if Nash was with Amy, right now …

“We need to get down there,” I said.

“Good.” Maya’s anger turned defiant. “I’m not above fighting for him this time. But I came to find you, and your hotel was all falling down again, and it scared the shit out of me.”

“You and me both.”

Maya’s red pickup stood at the edge of the lot, near Barry’s bar, the driver’s side door still open. Mick caught on to my worry, even if he didn’t understand it, and headed for the truck. Drake, who did understand my concern, herded Maya and me after Mick.

“Why did you put on your work clothes?” I asked Maya curiously as we hurried across the parking lot.

“Everything else in my closet was old,” Maya said. “I couldn’t find any of my new clothes. This is my old truck too, but looking brand new.”

I gave her a helpless look. “Dreams can be crazy.”

The passenger door was unlocked, and Mick held it open while I scrambled in. Mick and Drake, without speaking, climbed over the back of the pickup and settled down into the bed.

“You are going to explain all this to me after we go rescue Nash from that bitch,” Maya told me from the driver’s seat. She put the truck in gear and peeled out of the lot in a cloud of dust.

“Get in line,” I said grimly.

***

As we drove through Magellan in the early morning light, I was struck by how little had changed in the six years between now and when I’d arrive to live here. Of course, my dream might be painting the picture as I remembered it, not its reality, but the town seemed serene and untouched. Maya navigated the curves of the highway past the diner and the New Age store, Paradox; the small churches and the gas station; Hansen’s Garden Center, owned by my friend Jamison’s wife; the police station; and finally to the residential area.

Maya lived on the last street in town before the highway narrowed and moved toward the mountains in the south. Amy McGuire had lived at the end of this cul-de-sac before she’d had unfortunate things happen to her.

Maya didn’t slow, despite the 25-miles-an-hour sign at the entrance to the street. She gunned the truck all the way down the road and slammed on her brakes just as she reached Amy’s yard. There were no sidewalks here, or curbs, and Maya’s momentum carried her straight into the grass in front of Amy’s house.

Nash bolted outside before Maya was out of the truck. He was in civvies—his running shorts and a T-shirt, but he carried his gun in one hand, holster in the other.

When he saw Maya slide from the pickup, he kept the weapon pointed skyward but he didn’t holster it. “Maya, what the hell are you doing?”

“Rescuing you.” Maya looked past him to the doorway. “You stay away from him!”

A young woman with blond hair had emerged behind Nash, and gazed at her, bewildered. “Maya?” Her voice was thin and worried.

I hopped out of the truck and approached Maya, my heart thumping. I felt Mick right behind me, and Drake behind him. The morning was clear and bright, no storm. Drake was the only one of us whose magical ability was still strong.

Nash’s pistol leveled again. He didn’t aim at anyone, but he was ready to fire if necessary, and I knew from experience that Nash was a dead shot.

I also noticed he didn’t look his usual healthy self. Nash was a robust man in great shape, but this morning, his face was gray, his eyes glittering too brightly. With anyone else, I might suspect a hangover, but Nash didn’t get drunk—at least not anytime I’d known about.

Amy, on the other hand, seemed … sated. She swept her gaze over us, pretending to be intimidated, but I saw the glee that lurked in her green eyes.

“Get away from her, Nash,” Maya said. “She’s evil.” She pointed an angry finger at Amy. “Janet told me all about what you did to him.”

This Nash, from our past, had no idea what she was talking about, who I was, who Mick and Drake were. He only knew he was a sheriff’s deputy and his crazy ex-girlfriend, Maya, had come to stir up trouble.