The Dream Crafter (8 page)

Was she after the book from the beginning? He wanted to say no, but every thought was tainted, seen through a shattered prism. He couldn’t trust the results.

That didn’t mean he could sit on his ass. He needed to start somewhere. Fear and indecision couldn’t paralyze him, not now.

He drew a deep breath, letting it expand through his chest and ease some of the tightness there. New plan. Any decisions he made tonight were to be marked with an asterisk, to be examined later when his gut wasn’t churning with this stew of emotion he still couldn’t quite control.
Move forward.

No, she didn’t meet with him that first time with the intention of stealing the book. Whether that made him a stupid fool or not, he believed that. Her manner was too changed between the first and last meeting, and if she was a good enough actress to fool him the first and second time, why would she drop the mask the time she actually grabbed the book? And while the words didn’t assuage the betrayal, there was no doubting the emotion that infused every
I’m sorry
. And of course…
brother.

Putting aside how they met in the first place, that change meant a third party got hold of her and started using her. The Guild was an obvious choice and the first one, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that Hadrien had a habit of running his mouth in all the wrong places, so the possible candidates were large and stationed all over the world.

His best bet of snatching the book back was getting to her before an exchange took place. If he could find her before the rendezvous happened between her and whoever hired her, there was a chance of retrieving the book.

But where could she be? Near a beach would be the logical place to start, but her joy in her surroundings during that first meeting spoke of someone who was revisiting something well-loved but not experienced in a long time. He would bet money she was born and raised near the water, but not living there now.

Merc flipped through the memories of their time together, revisiting every moment spent with her in the dreams. The beach, both under sun and moon. His favorite park. His hotel room.

Wait.

In that first dream, when she had touched him and he had spun to face her, she had been sitting on a low wall in front of an apartment building, the numbers on a brass plaque mounted to the small gate in front. The street had been a residential one, kids playing on the sidewalk and a corner café that had old men in high-waisted pants entering, followed by two arguing women, their age difference and similar coloring suggesting mother and daughter.

There had been nothing special or memorable about that street, and nothing in her attitude suggested it was special to her in the way the beach was. No, that street was boring, predictable…
home
.

It was her home. It was where she lived now. It was nothing special to her – probably where she was living until something changed where she could make a move to where she’d rather be. That’s why she didn’t protect it. That’s why it was there.

Firing up his computer, he did what he always did – what he was good at. He
hunted
, using the hundreds of small details from his mind that most people would overlook, inputting them into the machine before him in ways he’d perfected over the years, matching electronic inputs and keystrokes to memories and topography.

There it was, waiting after several batches of longer and more complicated searches. Right there on the screen, a picture of exactly what he had seen in the dream, and close enough he could reach her today.

It was time to meet his dream woman.

‡

“W
e’ve managed to
collect fifteen items, a list I’ve forwarded you in your mail. Another thirty-six we are aware of who has them. That list is with Kyo, awaiting his orders.” As Tec spoke about the current status of the search for the vault items, images of different items floated around them, illustrating on-screen the genius’s words.

Fallon watched as the pictures changed, making mental notes of which ones she was most interested in, the magic items that would cause the most damage. “And the gargoyles?”

“Expect one of Terak’s lieutenants at the end of the week to be an honorary member of the Guild. How did you convince him of the wisdom in this summer exchange program?”

Before Fallon could answer, Laire came zooming into the console room without looking where she was going. Only Tec’s quick reflexes stopped her from tripping and falling on her butt, and only luck explained how Laire managed to not take out either Tec or his beloved gadgetry while trying to right herself.

After a quick nod of thanks to Tec and a quick swipe of hand over outfit to make sure the red and black dress was in place, Laire grabbed Fallon’s wrist. “Come on, it’s about to get good if you don’t make me miss it.”

Fallon blinked twice before pulling her wrist away. “And hello to you too. Strangely enough, I might want to finish my conversation before being pulled away. There’s this little thing called work I do around here.” Tec, being the smart guy he was, snorted but otherwise kept quiet.

“You only hang around here because it’s an acceptable place to showcase your aggressive and hostile nature,” Laire shot back, but then switched tactics with whiplash speed, bringing her hand up to study her nails with an oh-so-casual manner. “It’s only that the Master of Monsters is here
and
Wulver is in the building
and
word is they’re being forced to work together. You know, no biggie at all.”

“Later, Tec.” Fallon waved a quick goodbye before grabbing onto Laire and forcing the mage to get in step with her.

“You might want to stop the high school dramatics sometime,” he called after them, the British accent giving the words a superiority he may or may not have meant.

Laire turned to him, hand on hip in pure attitude even as she was being pulled along like a toddler. “All life is high school. For example, how late did you stay up playing video games last night?”

The last sight of him before they turned the corner included blush stained cheeks and a quick ducking of his head. Laire giggled. “I love geeks. They’re so easy.”

“Just be careful. We can’t afford for you to break him.”

They made their way to the main floor of the building. This area was a large circular room, with only a few offices connected to it. Here was for waiting for missions to begin, or the occasional downtime where large groups would hang together. Weapons and training were below, while work areas, meeting rooms, and a few apartments for temporary stays were above.

This time Aislynn was there, talking in easy, calm tones to a woman. The woman was taller than the elf and slender as a reed, dressed in a shirt and pants of midnight blue, her outfit and bearing reminiscent of the glamour of old movies, where women clothed their power in silks and sharp silhouettes. Her straight black hair shone like the night sky that was touched by the faintest hint of moonlight. Her skin looked like it had never seen the sun, and at their approach, eyes so light blue they almost merged into the surrounding white met theirs. Rule, the Master of Monsters, was indeed here.

“Master of Monsters,” Fallon greeted as they approached her.

Rule inclined her head, a queen’s graciousness in the gesture. “Dragon Slayer. It is good to see you again.”

“And you. What brings you here? We only knew to expect you, not the reasons for your arrival.” Sometimes Fallon could be as subtle as Laire. The nice thing was, Rule would take no notice to the bluntness of the question. Though she never displayed any overt crassness, the woman never worried whether she was getting or giving offense, though whether that was because she didn’t know or didn’t care was often debated.

As expected, Rule didn’t even give an arched eyebrow over the question. “The Seven Houses have asked for my assistance. I do not know the details yet, only that I am to meet with Lord Kyo.”

Aislynn cleared her throat and spoke up. “I’m to take her to Wulver so they can speak with Kyo together.”

“Oh, you’re going to be working with Wulver,” Fallon said, while behind Rule’s back, Laire gave a fist pump and then a
told you
finger pointing at Fallon.

“It would seem so,” Rule replied, and when she turned to look at Laire, Laire’s hands were behind her back and she had the Laire version of an innocent expression on her face. Which meant it wasn’t, but thank gods Rule was not strong on the social cues.

From above them dropped a creature the size of a pony, which landed in front of Rule. All three women made to grab their weapons before the creature wound around Rule’s feet and settled in front of her. As Rule didn’t seem surprised at this, in silent agreement the three went back to staring at it in horrified curiosity. After twenty seconds of dead silence, Laire exclaimed, “What in the four hells is
that
?”

The creature which guarded the Master of Monsters was lion and raven and reptile, all feline grace and carrion cruelty, with the scent of magic seeped into its skin. Rule’s pale eyes warmed, the first hint of emotion since her arrival. “My Thantus. He was a wizard’s experiment before I found him.”

“Where is the wizard now?” ventured Aislynn.

“Digested.”

Before any further questions could be asked, Wulver came into the room, stopping short as he took in their guest. His blue eyes snapped, and the good humor he always carried around with him washed out of his face. He drew in a deep breath that was pure shoring defenses before coming farther into the room. “Rule. I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”

This time there was no bow of her head, and while the words were still polite, this time the challenge in voice and tone was unmistakable. “Alpha. I received word to come earlier.”

They were gunslingers at high noon, facing off as tumbleweeds rolled by. “I hadn’t heard that.”

A new voice spoke up, so curt it edged on harsh, though the words contained the expected courtesy. “My apologies, Wulver. It was a sudden change in my schedule that prompted this switch.”

The energy around them became charged as Kyo entered the room. The Japanese man radiated power so strong that for those not used to it, it was hard to breathe around him.

His near-black hair was long enough to touch his nape, the fringe falling over his forehead and face, but it looked in no way unkempt. His dark eyes shown from behind the bangs.

He was six-foot with a medium musculature, but even next to Wulver who was bigger than him in both height and mass, something about Kyo made Wulver seem small. Kyo wore a traditional yukata in a midnight blue, and though the garment resembled a robe, on Kyo it might as well have been the most ornate and majestic of outfits.

Next to him was a Japanese woman of about five-four, taller than Laire but shorter than Aislynn, and far shorter than both Fallon and Rule. She carried herself the same way Kyo did, spine vertical and chin lifted high, eyes watching for the tiniest sign of weakness. She wore a white sleeveless top with a high collar, the tailoring resembling a vest, and white flowing slacks.

Kyo looked over the group, including Laire who was studying her nails again, but this time her body was a story in distinct uncomfortableness.

Tec’s voice filtered through the air. “Fallon?”

Taking in Laire’s small breath and subtle shift of her shoulders downward, Fallon answered, “Yeah?”

“The Dream Crafter has contacted us. She has what we requested.”

“That sounds like my cue to miss this little lovefest.” Fallon cuffed Laire on the back of her neck, which caused the mage to jump and give Fallon the side-eye from hell. “Come on. I might need your help.”

Without any goodbyes, Fallon ushered Laire away to Tec and their mission.

‡

T
he urge to
vomit was a constant pressure from the back of her throat. Amana took another sip of ginger ale, willing the acid to settle back in her stomach and behave.

Once again, her hand stroked over her bag, feeling for the shape of the book within it, as she had done every minute since she walked out her door to the trendy café on the corner. With every ring of the bell over the door she looked up, and so far all it got her was disappointment and stretched-out nerves.