Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5)(60)

“Believe me, you wouldn’t want to. And I’m not going to let Emmett split you in half for real—ever.”

“It’s not so much splitting in half,” Mick said. “A person can have many essences, more than two. You, for instance, have Beneath magic, storm magic, and then a part that’s you—daughter of your father.”

I gripped his hand. “I know these things amaze you, but can we talk about them later?”

A hint of his usual grin returned. “I take an interest in all magic. I never know when it will come in useful.”

“It hurt you when Emmett took away your dragon. It broke my heart.”

“What did I do? Break down and cry like a whiny baby?”

I was surprised he’d even think so. “No. You still took care of me. And you had some earth magic left, and strength. You were still my Mick.”

“I see.” Mick squeezed my hand, but gently. “Glad I didn’t fall apart. It shows that you believe I wouldn’t. It was your dream, so I acted as you perceive me in real life. I’m flattered.”

I started to argue that I wasn’t sure it had been a true dream when I noticed that the fingers on my left hand were bare. I slid my hand from his grasp and studied my fingers in alarm. “My engagement ring. Why don’t I—”

I broke off as Mick dug the silver circlet out of the pocket of his jeans. “I kept it safe for you. I didn’t want it to get lost.”

I blew out my breath. For one awful moment, I’d thought myself still dreaming, in yet another weird alternate reality.

“I’m not sure they’re truly dreams,” I said as Mick slipped the band onto my finger. I relaxed when I felt the silver, warmed by Mick’s body heat, against my skin. “I might have been riding some kind of spell into the past, or an alternate version of it. In this one, the Dragon Council tried to kill you for telling them you’d protect me from them.”

Mick looked interested again. “I remember when I met with them. I knew that night could have gone either way.”

I shuddered. “It was horrible, but it’s over now. Can we go home? I don’t like cities. Phoenix is too big, too hot, too scary.”

“Not yet.” Mick splayed his hand on my chest, as though believing I’d leap up and run to the nearest bus heading north. “You heal first.”

Thoughts were coming back to me. “Before I was crushed, Emmett’s driver said Emmett had offices here. Remember? What happened to him—Sam, the chauffeur? Emmett dosed him with a strange spell.” I remembered Mick’s hands beginning to fuse to Sam’s body, which was why Mick had become a dragon.

“He made it,” Mick said. “The paramedics took him. Whatever was trying to meld us stopped when I grew scales—maybe the spell only worked on humans. I didn’t collapse the building, though—I tore out the back wall in the interrogation room to escape and left everything else intact. Emmett must have triggered the rest of it.”

He broke off, his look becoming sad again. “Nash and firemen were digging you out by the time I flew back.” Mick swallowed, his voice quieting. “I don’t know what happened to Emmett’s thugs.”

“We can ask him,” I said. “We’ll find Emmett’s office and drag him out of it. Get Drake, Colby, and Coyote to help. Bring Cassandra down here too. Plus my grandmother—Emmett’s gone one-on-one with her before and didn’t like it.”

“Calm down.” Mick didn’t move his hand, and it grew heavier through my thin hospital gown. “I did check out his office building. He hasn’t been there for weeks.”

“So we’ll stake it out. I want to confront him. Teach him not to mess with us.”

“We will.” Mick’s rumble was soothing. “But not yet. I need you at full strength if we’re going after him.”

“Mmm.” I relaxed down into the bed and put my hand over his. “How about a little dose of dragon healing?”

The glint in Mick’s eye returned. Knowing him, he’d likely been feeding me healing magic all the while I was unconscious, but he understood what I meant.

He pulled the loose gown to bare my shoulders and began to kiss my neck, my throat, and down between my breasts.

***

I agreed to stay and recover but only if my family went home. The next person I asked to see after Mick was my dad.

Pete sat down in the chair Mick had vacated and glanced at the machinery around me. He didn’t clasp my hand, but he didn’t need to. My dad and I had a connection even when we didn’t touch.

“Mick takes care of you well,” he said. He looked tired, with lines around his eyes.