I liked the way my heartbeat quickened. “Yeah? Well, you’re my mate. It goes both ways. Either lock me on your island lair or let me protect you.”
Mick growled low in his throat. “Don’t tempt me.”
I knew damn well he’d fly me out to the atoll in the middle of the Pacific and make sure I couldn’t get away if he thought I’d be safer.
To keep him from deciding to go there right now, I pressed myself against him. While I’d been in the hospital, there had been no way to be completely intimate, and last night in the hotel room, Mick had insisted I sleep, not that I hadn’t passed out as soon as my head touched the pillow.
I still wasn’t quite at my normal strength today, and the impromptu flight home had drained me a bit. It was also broad daylight, the sun shining on Mick’s bare skin, and the hotel was full of guests.
Even so, I gave his hands a little tug, indicating we should go inside. I was ready to show him how much I appreciated him springing to my defense.
Mick gave me a brief kiss on the lips before he gently pushed me away, but not to reject me. He moved a few steps down the railroad bed to the clothes he’d hidden there, pulling on a pair of jeans over his nakedness.
Then he took my hand, led me up and over the railroad bed and across the open space to the back door of my hotel. He was barefoot, but rocks and thorns never bothered Mick.
He kissed me again on the doorstep, the kiss holding all of his fire and plenty of promise. Then he took me inside and down the short hall to my bedroom, where he closed the door, shutting out the world.
Only an old crow, perched high in the juniper tree, watched us go in, and she said nothing at all.
***
I woke in darkness, the moon high, clouds dragging across it to dim its light. Mick was gone, but the pillow beside me was warm, and I knew he hadn’t gone far.
I rolled out of bed to my feet, my body sore from my recovery and Mick’s exuberant welcome. I was grateful for the dreamless sleep I’d plunged into, I guessed courtesy of Mick, whose healing magic included sending the hurt person to cozy oblivion.
I dragged on some clothes and went to check out the quiet hotel. Tomorrow I’d go see Maya and find Drake. While I’d been in the hospital, Fremont had called to tell me Maya was better and had gone home, to her old house, he’d stressed.
We’d had no word from Drake, and Mick was worried, though he said nothing. Drake hadn’t been at the jail when it had fallen—as far as I knew—but that didn’t mean Emmett hadn’t found some way to hurt him too. Pain and suffering seemed to be the criteria for walking the dreams with me.
It was late, but guests were still in the lobby, and Cassandra was behind the reception desk. This was a hotel for the paranormal, which meant people who were at home in the night—witches, Nightwalkers, Changers, and other things I didn’t know much about.
The small, wizened couple reading together on the couch caught my eye. They didn’t look human, but their auras weren’t demon or anything witchy. They had the solid, clean auras of earth magic, but I had no clue what they were.
I headed into the saloon, wanting to make sure the magic mirror was intact. It was the focus of Emmett’s attention, and finding the frame empty in the dream worried me.
I nodded at Carlos, the bartender, and looked past him to the wall. A shudder of déjà vu went through me as I saw that the entire mirror was gone, frame and all.
My mouth opened and closed as I pointed at the empty space. Carlos looked puzzled then glanced to what I stared at.
“Oh, the mirror,” he said, and went on dispensing wine into two glasses. “Cassandra took it down. It’s being fixed, I guess. Good thing. Needs it.”
Carlos set the glasses on a tray and slid away to deliver them to the couple in the corner. That couple’s auras were distinctly wolf, though they looked human enough at the moment.
In a daze, I walked into the kitchen. Elena was cleaning up after service—or rather, she was sitting at the table having a meal while Don, her assistant, scrubbed off the counter. Don sent me a grin as I entered, but also a warning look. Elena wasn’t alone—my grandmother sat across from her, watching Elena eat.
“Janet,” Grandmother said without rising. “I heard Mick brought you home. I thought you’d stay in the hospital at least a few more days.”
“I’m much better,” I assured her.
“He lets you get up too soon,” Grandmother said, meaning Mick. “Firewalkers are impatient.”
“They’re also good healers,” I said, on my way to the refrigerator. It was too much to hope Elena had held something back for late-night diners. When she closed the kitchen, it stayed closed. I’d become an expert at throwing together cold sandwiches.