Page 21 of Dream Weaver (Spellbound in Sedona #3)

COOPER

Years back, my brother Chris had stumbled back to the firehouse after a weekend off with “the most amazing” woman, claiming his life had permanently changed. Over the next two weeks of firefighting, he’d done nothing but croon about destiny, love, and forever.

At the time, we’d laughed him off.

Now, as I lay in the darkness, holding Abby close, my inner bear crooned the same way.

Destiny… True love… Forever…

Chris had made a beeline for Mara the minute we’d returned from our next forty-eight-hour break and came back engaged. Nearly ten years on, his enthusiasm hadn’t waned one bit. If anything, he was happier than ever, the proud dad of three kids, and cheerfully looking forward to forever together with his mate.

I nuzzled Abby’s shoulder, inhaling her floral scent. Just enough moonlight filtered into the room for me to make out the flames tattooed along her arm. Her chest rose and fell under my arm, and her auburn hair cascaded over my hand, half covering her bare breast.

Seeing Abby at rest was a little like glimpsing a UFO. I felt super special — and I doubted anyone would believe me if I told them. Not that I planned to spill the beans, of course.

I held her a little closer. I would never, ever betray her trust.

Will never, ever leave her, my bear declared.

I never wanted to, but did she feel the same?

I nuzzled some more, marking her with my scent. Thinking. Wondering. I’d never thought I might end up with a hard-talking, tattooed, single mother from what Mom would call a “broken” family. And I’d never, ever imagined myself with a witch.

Then again, I’d never, ever imagined I might find myself a woman who could fight blazing fires — along with her inner demons — and work solid steel, not to mention raising a really sweet kid.

Would all hell break loose if I brought Abby home as my mate, or would everything fall into place as easily as it had for Chris?

I took a deep breath, telling myself this was a little like working a two-week shift. Whatever would happen, would happen. In the meantime, the best thing to do was catch some rest.

I closed my eyes, snuggled Abby closer, and drifted off to sleep.

But what felt like only a second later—

Bam! I jerked upright, completely disoriented except for Abby’s tight grip on my arm.

“What’s wr—”

She cut me off with a sharp gesture, staring out the window, where the stars were beginning to fade.

It wasn’t quite dawn, but not far off. Was some foe on the prowl out there? My inner grizzly growled.

Abby tensed again, and her fingers clamped down on my arm. Her eyes were wide and wild, and her breath hitched.

A moment later, her shoulders loosened a little.

“You didn’t feel that?”

“Feel what?” I asked.

She opened her mouth to explain, then froze.

“Not that either?” she asked when it passed.

I looked around. Earthquake? Thunder? A landslide? I’d felt nothing, but Abby looked like she was ready to bolt.

“Look.” She pointed to the water glass I’d left by the bed.

Seconds ticked by.

“Watch wha—” I started, then froze.

Concentric rings rippled through the water as Abby tensed again.

Okay, that was weird. Like an earthquake that had hit Abby, the glass, and nothing else.

A tiny dust storm whirled by outside, and a tumbleweed rolled past.

Then my eyes fell on the fireplace. The fire had long since burned out, but suddenly, the embers flared. The points of light reflected in Abby’s eyes.

“What’s going on?” I whispered.

“A disturbance.” She stared into the distance, cocking her head to listen.

Finally, I put it together. Someone, somewhere, was stirring up magic. Magic that humans and shifters were oblivious to, but not Abby. Magic that affected fire, water, air…

Elemental magic, the back of my mind whispered.

It wasn’t coming from Abby, though. Who, then?

“Like the other day, when someone was messing around at the Airport Mesa vortex?” I asked.

“Messing around with the Airport Mesa vortex,” she corrected.

She stood and stared out the window, her slim figure half lit, half shadowed by the predawn light. I couldn’t help picturing a fairy or a goddess from a Greek myth.

She tensed again, then turned and grabbed for her clothes. Mine, too — whew. Wherever she was going, she was taking me with her.

Good.

She tossed my pants to me, sounding grim. “Come on. We need to find out what’s happening.”

* * *

The only plus side of being ripped out of a peaceful morning in bed with Abby was that urgency — and the low clearance of her Ford — put her in my pickup with me. I drove over back roads while she spoke in hushed tones over the phone.

“Not Airport Mesa this time,” she said to her sister, then waited. “No, not Cathedral Rock either. Somewhere around the back of Soldier Pass…maybe Mescal Mountain?”

They debated for a while. Erin and Nash couldn’t miss work, and Pippa and Ingo had already rushed off to investigate Boynton Canyon, where they had no reception. That left Abby and me to check out the area behind Soldier Pass.

“Be careful,” I heard Erin admonish Abby over the phone. “And keep trying to reach Ingo.”

“Will do,” Abby replied, just as terse. Then she hung up and pointed right. “Turn here.”

A damn good thing my copilot knew every back road in town. After many more turns, we reached the junction of Dry Creek and Boynton Canyon Roads.

Abby closed her eyes and did whatever it was that allowed her to home in on the disturbance.

As for me, I was running on pure faith, unable to feel a thing. But it was a little like blacksmithing. It might seem like a dark science to me, but Abby knew what she was doing. All I had to do was go along for the ride and keep my eyes peeled for trouble.

“That way.” Abby pointed me into a left turn.

We’d barely gone a hundred yards when an SUV came roaring around a bend ahead, swinging into my lane as it raced in the opposite direction. Two heads swiveled toward us, and one of them — a man — gestured angrily, as if I was the lunatic who’d drifted over into his lane. I barely caught a glimpse of the woman beside him, but when I did, my blood ran cold.

Abby whirled, watching the vehicle speed away.

“Shit. That’s Jay.”

I barely heard her. My mind was in overdrive. Was that Lisa I’d just seen?

I took my foot off the gas pedal and looked at Abby. Should we follow the bad guys — and I was sure bad was right — or continue to the scene of the crime?

“Dammit,” Abby muttered. “What the hell is Jay doing out here? And who was that with him?”

“Lisa,” I grumbled. “I think.”

Abby cocked her head. “You mean Liselle?”

After quickly comparing notes, we decided, yes, we were talking about the same woman. Brown hair, blueish-purple eyes. Rich, stylish, entitled.

But was that who we’d seen rush by with Jay? Neither of us had gotten a clear glimpse, but we both agreed the vibe fit.

“So…Lisa or Liselle?” Abby asked. “And, wait. You know her?”

I nodded curtly. “I wish I didn’t, but yes.” Then I motioned over my shoulder. “Do we follow them or keep going?”

Clearly, I’d internalized our roles. She was Batman to my Robin, and I would follow her wherever she went. I just hoped that didn’t get us hexed or killed.

Abby thought for a moment, then pointed ahead. “Keep going. I know where Liselle lives.”

She sent a text to update Ingo whenever he was back in cell phone range. Then she motioned for me to pull into a trailhead parking lot. Once there, she jumped out and scanned the landscape.

It was stunning. Quiet. Timeless. But eerie and foreboding too.

“The disturbance was out there.” She pointed down a trail lit by the predawn light.

“What’s out there?”

“Devil’s Bridge.”

Even more foreboding. Great.

Abby set off briskly, and I followed.

“Is there a vortex there?” I asked, remembering our last sleuthing trip.

“Not a permanent one, but from time to time, there are reports of an upflow. I’ve never felt it myself.”

“And now?”

She puffed out a concerned breath. “I guess we’ll see. I can feel the disturbance, though. Whatever they were doing out here, the vortex isn’t happy about it.”

I tried to picture a happy vortex, but a swirling, angry force was easier to imagine — and much scarier. So, why exactly were we heading to one?

My bear grumbled. Because if Lisa is involved, that means trouble. And with Jay around, Claire could be in danger too.

I clenched my hands, resisting their urge to turn into claws.

There was a lot to puzzle out, but walking and talking didn’t work — not at the scorching pace Abby hit, and not over the loud crunch of gravel as we jogged down the trail.

After a brisk twenty minutes, the flat trail turned uphill, and a short time later—

Abby pulled up and gestured. “Devil’s Bridge.”

I stuck up a hand, blocking the sun. A bulky mesa reared over the terrain ahead, and the first ray of sunshine had just broken over it, pointing directly to a long, slender natural arch.

This wasn’t a sight-seeing tour, but we couldn’t help stopping to soak it all in. Sedona was stunning no matter where you looked, but wow. This really was a superlative spot. The air smelled of pine and juniper, and my bear longed to explore at a leisurely pace.

Some other time, because Abby took off again, heading for the natural bridge. She strode right out onto it, then stopped in the middle and looked around.

I followed slowly. We bears liked to keep solid ground beneath our feet, and a bridge that slender — even if it was rock — wasn’t a natural choice, especially if a witch had been poking around out there.

Like Abby, I studied the ground. The rock was scraped, just like the vortex at Airport Mesa had been.

“So, the vortex…” I whispered as if it might hear me and attack. And, hell. Who knew?

Abby stretched out her arms, palms down, the way folks absorbed the heat of a bonfire in winter, and moved around.

“It’s weak and diffuse. And it’s pulsing a little, like it’s angry.”

Yeah, well. Who wouldn’t be with Lisa around?

She scanned our surroundings, then kicked at the ashes on the ground. They whirled into the air and puffed over the edge of the rock arch, which was only a few steps across.

I sniffed around. Bears had some of the best noses in the world, and even in human form, that sense was finely honed.

“That fire is recent,” I said, then sniffed some more. “Two people came through maybe an hour ago. Jay and Lisa.”

“You mean Jay and Liselle,” Abby muttered.

“She was introduced to me as Lisa,” I said, scowling. “I met her during a job in Nevada. The Clark Canyon fire.”

Abby nodded, and I went on.

“She came over to my crew when we were eating out one night after things had settled down a bit. She offered to pay for the meal and invited us to her place — an amazing house overlooking Lake Tahoe…” I made a face, remembering her pointing it out. “Of course, we couldn’t accept…”

Locals usually treated fire crews well, bringing us home-cooked goodies and hanging huge thank-you signs wherever we pitched camp. We got a lot of dinner invitations too, but we had to turn those down as a matter of policy. As government employees, we weren’t allowed to accept gifts.

“We explained that to her, but she kept insisting. Eventually, she invited herself to our table and chummed around for a while, too.”

“Chummed around?” Abby’s eyebrows drew together.

I made a face. “Hitting on the guys. I was all the way at the far end of the table, but she went after my brother Peter real hard. He was polite but totally uninterested, and he kept turning her down.”

“Let me guess. She was very insistent.” Abby’s voice was bitter, like she’d experienced that too.

“More than insistent. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and she was really mad when we left.”

I’d hated her then, and I hated her now, because the ugly memory overshadowed what should have been good memories of my brother.

Abby waited a moment, then asked, “Then what?”

I shrugged. “She made a big scene in the parking lot. But that was it. The fire flared up overnight, and we went back to work.” I cleared my throat, skipping over the tragedy that had ensued. “Anyway, we never saw her again. Hard to forget her, though — and I don’t mean in a good way. She’s the type who stirs up trouble wherever she goes.”

“No kidding,” Abby muttered. “She was the one who held me up the day I was late to Claire’s school.”

Alarms went off in my mind. “What did she want?”

“A brazier,” Abby said, staring at the ground. “A portable one…” She knelt and rubbed fresh ashes between her fingers.

“For what?” I asked, more alarmed than ever.

Abby dusted off her hands and moved around, studying the ground. Then she scowled and gazed into the distance. “I don’t know. I know she’s a witch, though.”

“A witch?” I spat out the word, then stopped at Abby’s affronted expression. Oops. “I mean, a bad one?”

Abby flashed a thin smile. “Yes, a bad one. Not especially powerful, but if you’re not on guard…”

Her eyes flashed, and I wondered if — when? — Abby had let her guard slip.

The next minute passed in ponderous silence. We both scanned the area, but there was no one around. Finally, Abby sighed, sat, and flopped on her back, grumbling. “Damn, is it early.”

“Um… What about the vortex?” I asked, anxious to get back on solid ground.

Abby made a cutting motion. “It stopped. All quiet now.”

I looked around a moment longer, then sat beside Abby. Like her, I stared up at the sky, thinking. And, wow, was it blue. That was the thing about nature. Even when the world was a mess, its beauty still shone through.

I snuck my hand over to Abby’s, and she wrapped her fingers around mine. I tugged a little to kiss the back of her hand, and she smiled.

“Now I have an extra reason to hate Liselle,” she murmured.

I looked down, waiting for the punch line.

Abby sighed at the sky. “We could still be in bed.”

In bed, but not asleep, my bear chimed in.

I grinned. Good to know Abby mourned the missed opportunity as much as I did.

I leaned over to kiss her. Just one little kiss before we got back to sleuthing — I swear! But the kiss took off with a drive of its own, and soon, my heart was pounding — and hers too.

She slid her hands over my back, while mine found the dent of her waist. Abby broke off the kiss to smile at me, and what a sight.

“Not exactly the most private place…”

No, but now that we’d started, it was hard to stop. I kissed my way down her neck, driven by instincts wired into my DNA.

“By noon, this place will be crawling with tourists, you know,” she warned.

“Good thing that’s hours away,” I mumbled into the smooth curve of her collarbone.

Abby tilted her head back, giving me space. Then she laughed and looked down.

“This is all your fault, you know.”

“What’s my fault?”

“Getting me off track. Again.”

I looked up with a chuckle, and she grinned back. The wind ruffled her hair, and she pushed it away from her face. Then her eyes caught on something in the sky, and her smile faded.

“What the…?”

I rolled away to look, but my nose caught a scent first. Something wild and feline.

I jumped to my feet, pulling Abby up with me. Her eyes were on the sky, but mine were on the trees at the end of the natural bridge.

A growl built in my chest, echoed by a faint snarl from the trees. Shadows flickered as something slunk around, just out of sight.

I backed up a step, pulling Abby with me.

“Where did that come from?” she murmured, gazing north.

I glanced up. That was a dark cloud stretching across the horizon. But that wasn’t the only thing that had snuck up on us.

A cougar stalked out of the bushes, keeping low to the ground in attack mode.

I grabbed Abby’s shirt to get her attention.

“Oh. Wow,” she breathed.

No, it wasn’t every day you saw a cougar. But that wasn’t an ordinary cougar, and I knew it. Especially when two more emerged from the bushes.