Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5) - Allyson James Page 0,6
I didn’t mind. Being smashed against a tight-bodied man like Mick wasn’t a bad thing.
Flashing lights broke the night. Of course. An SUV marked Hopi County Sheriff’s Department swung through the parking lot and came to a dusty halt next to the guys from Emmett’s limo. The three thugs, minus their guns, couldn’t move. A rope of flame, courtesy of Mick, encircled them, keeping them in place.
“Who are they?” Nash Jones, Sheriff of Hopi County, asked me as he got out of his SUV and slammed the door.
Nash was in full uniform, his badge polished to mirror sheen, the gun in his holster just as polished. He looked over the burned-out limo then at Mick and me, knowing one of us had done this.
Mick wouldn’t let me go as he answered Nash. “They work for Emmett Smith. They’re probably harmless.” Never mind they’d just tried to shoot him.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Nash said. “I came to see your sister. Where is she?”
“That might not be a good idea.” I eased out of Mick’s hold. “She’s a little upset.”
“I heard about the convenience store,” Nash said, his frown in place. During the day, he wore dark sunglasses that hid his eyes. Tonight, the light above the door of my hotel made his eyes glitter gray. “State police arrested three men who have been wanted for a string of robberies across the country. They didn’t look too good.”
Nash sounded grimly satisfied. He hates criminals of all kinds, but he doesn’t like dangerous magic people either.
“They scared Gabrielle,” I said. “She didn’t kill any of them.”
“This time,” Nash said. “And I’m pretty sure that’s because you and Mick showed up.”
“Could be,” I said.
“Want to tell me why you showed up?” Nash asked. “How did you know your sister was holding three armed robbers hostage?”
I said nothing. I suspected the messages in the fortune cookies had come from Coyote—they’d reeked of Coyote’s modus operandi. Any message from Cassandra, the witch who managed my hotel, would have been clear, explanatory, and signed. Actually, Cassandra would have just called Mick. Coyote, on the other hand, rarely used his phone. Cryptic and mysterious was more his style.
I hadn’t seen Coyote for a few months, however, and there’d been no sign of him around the convenience store that I could tell. Didn’t mean he wasn’t watching from afar, though.
“We happened to be passing,” Mick said. “On our way home from dinner in Flag. Saw the magic in the store and realized something was up.”
The explanation wasn’t a lie, strictly. Nash sensed there was more to it than that, but other than giving Mick a sharp stare, he didn’t argue.
“You need to control her, Janet,” Nash said, switching his gaze to me.
“Sure,” I said. “Because she listens to me so well.”
“Those robbers are wanted in connection with a lot crimes,” Nash went on. “But a good lawyer might be able to help them get Gabrielle charged for assault—and maybe you and Mick too.”
Possibly. However, I doubted those tough guys would want to admit that a small young woman like Gabrielle had singlehandedly kicked their asses.
Nash glanced back to Emmett’s men. “You say they work for Smith?” he asked me.
“They do,” I said. “But they’re completely human.”
“Good. I’ll take them in.” Nash wanted in the worst way to arrest Emmett and make him pay for the many problems he’d caused. Nash didn’t give a damn whether Emmett was the most powerful mage in the world or a petty crook, he wanted to arrest the man and give him hell.
Mick helped Nash load the driver and Emmett’s minions into the SUV, the men now locked into steel handcuffs. I wondered if Emmett would send a crack lawyer to get them out of custody, or whether he’d abandon them. Emmett seemed the type to discard people when they were no longer useful to him.
Nash drove away, and I started inside to talk to Gabrielle.
Before I even made it to the front door, Mick’s cell phone buzzed. He answered it, an eye on me, then came alert. “Sure, we’ll be right there.”
I had a feeling my date night with Mick had just been blown even more to hell. “What?” I asked him.
“That was Barry. He says he has a little problem in the bar. Wants us to check it out.”
Mick was already striding across the dirt parking lot that separated my hotel from the Crossroads Bar. I let out an exasperated breath, balled my fists, and trudged after him.