Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5)(67)

“You need to tell me about these dreams,” Grandmother said when I emerged with bread and meat. “Leave nothing out.” Elena’s heavy silence said she agreed with her.

I sighed, sat myself down at the table, and told them what had happened while I spread mustard and piled roast beef onto Elena’s homemade bread.

I relayed everything I could remember, knowing even the smallest detail might be important. My second dream hadn’t faded as rapidly as the first—possibly because unique events had occurred, different from the original past—but already some parts had grown fuzzy.

“Maya and the Firewalker called Drake were truly there?” Grandmother asked. “Or were manifestations of your own dream? Have you asked them?”

“Not yet.” I took a big bite of my sandwich, my appetite returning with a vengeance. “Maya’s resting, and we haven’t seen Drake.”

Grandmother looked grim. “You should look for him.”

Elena laid down her silverware and spoke for the first time since I’d entered. “We need another talk with Mr. Emmett Smith. Where did he go after Mick destroyed his office?”

I shrugged, my mouth full. “I haven’t the faintest idea.” At the moment, I didn’t care. I was hungry, and I needed to talk to Cassandra about the mirror.

“Find him,” Elena said. “Bring him to me and Ruby. Here in the hotel.”

I swallowed quickly, nearly choking. “I don’t want him anywhere near my hotel.”

Elena frowned at me. “Best place. We can defend ourselves well here. We will put him against a wall and make him leave us alone.”

“We tried to fight him before, remember?” I pointed out. That fight had been one of the toughest of my life.

“We were out of our territory,” Grandmother said. “Bring Emmett here. If he wants the magic mirror, use it against him. Make him realize it’s too costly for him to take. A man like that needs to understand he can’t have everything he wants.”

“He can have everything he wants,” I said. “He’s killed plenty of people to gain the power he has now. I don’t see how we can persuade him not to.”

“Every mage has a vulnerability,” Elena said. “We will find his, and use it to bring him to his knees.”

She spoke confidently, and my grandmother nodded right along with her.

These two women, my grandmother in her skirt and blouse, Elena in blue slacks and brightly flowered top, were the most frightening and powerful beings in the hotel, more even than the wolf Changers in the saloon or the Nightwalker in the TV room, who was enjoying Laura, a noir classic. These two women could destroy half the town, if they put their minds to it. Thank heavens they were kind underneath it all, and didn’t like to see innocents get hurt.

I did not want to ease the wards to let Emmett enter the hotel, but I conceded that they had a point—if we had to face Emmett, we’d be stronger on our own ground.

On the other hand, if he beat us, he’d have control of my hotel and all the magics in it, including the mirror.

“I’ll think about it,” I said. I took my empty plate to the sink, threw away my paper napkin, gave a nod to Don, and went out.

Cassandra was typing briskly behind the reception desk. I leaned on the counter, waiting for her to pause.

“Why are you here so late?” I asked her. “Not that I mind,” I added quickly.

Cassandra looked up, unoffended. “I’ve moved into the bedroom on the third floor so I can better keep an eye on the place. Pamela has too.” Her tone turned apologetic. “She wasn’t about to let me stay here alone.” While she sounded exasperated, she knew I’d understand. I had a very protective mate as well.

“That’s good, as a matter of fact. I was going to ask you to stay. I’m sorry I’ve been so out of it lately—thanks for covering.”

Cassandra gave me a puzzled glance. “It’s my job to cover, and your absences haven’t been your fault. You’ve made an enemy of the Ununculous. The fact that you’re still alive attests to your amazing strength.”

At the moment, I felt about as strong as a wet napkin. “Cassandra, you are so good at running this hotel, I think I should step aside permanently. Sell the place to you, retire and take photos the rest of my life. Sounds restful.”

Cassandra’s light blue eyes widened. “What on earth would I do with a hotel?”

“Obviously make a lot of money from it. No one could run it better than you. You’re a frigging genius.”

She shook her head, my unflappable manager suddenly agitated. “No, no, no. I am good at managing—I love organizing and finding the most efficient way to turn a profit without sacrificing quality and the comfort of the guests. But Goddess, I wouldn’t want to own a hotel. What a nightmare.”