“Need to … stop Emmett,” I said breathily.
“I know.” Mick was far too calm. “That’s why we’re here.”
“He stole Gabrielle’s magic and left her to die.”
Mick’s eyes darkened. He didn’t need for me to explain how I knew this. “Did you see where she was?”
“Out there.” I waved my hand vaguely in the direction of the night. I pinned my gaze on Emmett, still inside the mirror and looking down at us with interest. “Where is she?”
Emmett only shrugged, his smile thin. But the mirror had given me a clue where to start.
“We’ll find her.” Mick’s voice took on the gravelly note of the dragon, and his tatts began to move.
“We’ll need help,” I said. “There’s a lot of desert out there.”
“Then we’ll get it.” Mick rose to his feet, pulling me up to mine. He gave me another long kiss, his excitement and battle need giving the kiss strength. “We’ll find Gabrielle, and then we’ll kick Emmett’s sorry ass.”
I always envied Mick his ability to pare a problem down to its simplest parts.
***
I at least made myself pause to get dressed. I felt better once I had jeans on my butt and a sweatshirt warming my back.
Emmett remained inside the mirror—he’d watched Mick march me out of the bathroom. I did not at all trust him in there, but at least I knew where he was.
I rounded up Pamela, in case I needed a nose to sniff out Gabrielle, and the two dragons, Drake and Colby, who were hanging out—not together—in the saloon.
Nash would be another powerful ally, but Carlos told me he’d taken Maya home after she’d consumed her free drink. I called Nash’s cell, got no answer, and had to leave a message. I wondered if Maya had flushed his phone.
Our small posse headed east from the hotel, over the railroad bed toward the wash I’d found in my dream. Cassandra had wanted to come, but I’d tasked her with watching Emmett. If he got out of the mirror, I needed a formidable witch to stop him or stuff him back inside.
Elena and Grandmother agreed to help Cassandra keep an eye on him. I left the two older women tapping on my bathroom mirror at Emmett, like kids teasing fish in an aquarium.
The landscape I hiked through with Mick and the others looked different than it had in the dream. I’d explored most of the ground out here since moving into the hotel, and I didn’t remember that particular wash.
I didn’t have to, as it turned out. Pamela caught Gabrielle’s scent after we’d searched for about half an hour, and led me to the edge of the canyon that housed Clear Creek.
Mick had taken me kayaking on this creek this summer, and we’d camped out along its banks. While I was not as rugged and outdoorsy as Mick, I’d enjoyed floating between narrow canyon walls, seeing only cliffs, reflecting water, green trees, and blue sky. I’d also liked sleeping under the stars with him, in so much wilderness just minutes from our own front door.
Clear Creek was west of the hotel, while my dream had taken me east, but we’d circled around for a long time before Pamela had caught the scent.
She also found the trail down to the canyon’s floor. It was narrow and precipitous—I suspected it was more of a wash than a trail—and we had to traverse it in the dark. The flashlight I’d brought for myself had to be kept off, Pamela complaining that it night-blinded her. The three dragons didn’t need flashlights, being perfectly able to see by the moon’s now faint light. Mick was kind enough to send a tiny ball of flame hovering at my feet to illuminate the rocks I was about to trip over, but that was the best I got.
We made it to the bottom without mishap. Pamela, as wolf, roved the narrow banks of the creek then sat on her haunches, her nose wrinkling, gray eyes frustrated. I suspected the water kept her from homing in on the scent.
I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Gabrielle!”
No answer. The wind had increased, the clouds thickening, thunder rumbling to the south.
Colby had hung back at the top of the gorge, and not long after the rest of us reached the creek, an orange and red dragon swooped overhead. He let out a stream of fire, which lit up the sandstone canyon walls and glittered on the water. He soared about half a mile north of us before he bellowed.
“He’s found her,” Mick said, his black eyes glittering.
Without another word, he led the rest of us at a rapid pace along the creek, Pamela bounding ahead. I stumbled along after Mick, and Drake brought up the rear. Drake’s firm grip kept me from falling numerous times, and I heard his exasperated intake of breath whenever he caught me.
Colby settled on a rock at the top of the canyon—the narrow creek bed would be a tight squeeze for him while he remained dragon. Pamela halted, her low growls leading us on.