Desert Magick: Dream Catcher Page 19

Billowing clouds rose up from behind the McDowell Mountains as the monsoon gathered for an afternoon hit on the valley. The a/c blew at high speed, slowly replacing the hot air with cool, and Daisy put her foot on the gas when the light changed green. Her VW bus would still be warm inside by the time she reached Zoey’s place since the girl didn’t live that far, about four miles, but she ran the a/c anyway.

  Zoey had sounded nervous on the phone, and oddly apologetic. She was probably scared out of her wits about the upcoming conjoining. I know I’m worried for her. Poor girl. Bridgette would arrive a bit later, after her dentist appointment. Despite Daisy’s newly enhanced powers, she still felt better when Bridgette was near.

  As she gained speed, Daisy made a mental list of errands she needed to attend to after Zoey’s place—library, pet store, drug store, and hit any garage sales in the area. She also had to stop by her rental afterward, the childhood house her mother had left her. The current tenants had left a message yesterday about a busted drip line, so she wanted to take a look, see if she could fix it herself and save a call to the landscaper. Noah was working from home today and had offered to go but she told him she could handle things. Besides, with him home, she didn’t have to worry about Perky.

  An antelope squirrel made a sudden dash across the street, leaping along the way. She caught sight of the white stripes on its back as it scrambled between the green trunks of two palo verde trees and headed into a nearby neighborhood.

  “Keep out of the road, you little bugger.” Cute little things but no match for a car tire.

  She got through the next light just as it turned yellow and the car behind her was riding her ass the entire way. “I’m doing eight miles over the limit, numbnuts.” The other car was so close she couldn’t see the front bumper, only the windshield and part of the red hood, which needed a paint job. A young man, looked like a teen, sat behind the wheel. “Stupid kid. You’re gonna hit somebody.” Like me, if I have to stop quick.

  In no mood to get into an accident, she uttered a distance spell and added her desired space to it. The hairs on her arms rose as the air grew dry and static around her body. She hadn’t done a distance spell on something as large and fast as a car in quite a while, since it could zap her energy and make her want to take a nap. But she didn’t feel much this time. Yep, I’ve definitely got more power than before.

  The boy looked a bit perplexed as his car slowed to keep the spelled, two car lengths from Daisy’s vintage ride. After a moment, he pulled into the next lane and gunned it, his muffler drowning out the song playing on Daisy’s CD, then slammed on his brakes when another car pulled out from a side street up ahead. Miraculously, the kid managed to avoid a collision. This time. She was about to give him engine failure with a cease spell but he turned at the next street.

  Daisy shook her head. Was I that stupid as a kid? I sure as hell hope not.

  At the next light, she took a left. Three streets in, she turned right then made another left. The lots in Zoey’s neighborhood were larger than in Daisy’s. She made another right then left onto a cul de sac and headed toward the end, where Zoey’s territorial style house sat. Once in the circular drive, she cut the engine, put her windshield cover up, grabbed keys and purse, and headed toward the house.

  Zoey opened the door before she could ring the bell, leaving the security screen between them. “Hey.” She sounded out of breath.

  “Hi, Zoey. You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just finishing up some chores.” She unlocked and opened the security screen, allowing Daisy free passage into the air-conditioned home.

  For a college age girl, Zoey was incredibly neat. Other than a few newspapers scattered on the couch and a coffee mug on the dining table next to the Catcher box, Daisy didn’t notice anything out of place. With the open floor plan, she could see right over the dining table and bar into the tidy kitchen.

  “Sit down, Daisy. Want some coffee?” Zoey scooped up the mug from the coffee table. “I went shopping.” She smiled but it looked a bit forced.

  Daisy narrowed eyes on the tall girl. “Sure.” She put her purse on the coffee table and took a seat in one of the chairs, while her young cousin busied herself in the kitchen. “Any luck deciphering the Council’s information?”

  “Some. That’s why I called you.”

  Something in the girl’s voice prompted her to wait. Soon, Zoey returned with a plate of store bought cookies and two mugs of coffee on a bamboo tray. The two added sugar and cream to their respective mugs.

  Daisy took a sip as she studied her cousin. “What’s going on? What bad thing did you find out?”

  Zoey winced as she leaned back into the sofa with her mug in hand. “Is it that obvious?” She grunted. “Guess I need to work on my poker face.”

  “You don’t have a poker face, Zoey. Even a non-telepath can read you.”

  “Guess that’s why Uncle Alex was always tutoring me at cards.” Zoey smiled but it still looked strained.

  “Okay, now you’ve got me worried. Out with it.”

  Zoey swallowed and took in a deep breath. “Well, you know about the conjoining. I mean, that I have to link with someone to enhance my powers against the Anguisher.”

  “Yeah, I know that much. I don’t know how you do it but I’m assuming it’s in the Council’s instructions someplace.”

  “It is.” Zoey put her mug on the table and pulled her long legs under her. “Well the saguaro I spoke with—boy that sounds nuts, doesn’t it?--anyway, she pretty much chose my ally. The messages came to me all jumbled like a gazillion pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and I didn’t remember until last night when I was sleeping.”

  “Understandable. I mean, it seems pretty natural some of the info would come through your dreams.” She cocked her head and studied the girl. “You’re trying to tell me something. And I’m not going to like it. Am I?”

  “Don’t think so.” She rubbed her face and gave Daisy a steady gaze. “You’re my new ally.”

  Daisy blinked as she sat stunned for a moment. “That’s a good one.” She offered a nervous smile. No way! I can’t be the one. She must’ve gotten her signals crossed. Oh, hell. “Zoey, I’m not even the most powerful paranormal in Phoenix.” And I don’t know shit about Dream Catchers.

  “Well, you must be close. Why else would the Council choose you?”

  Realization hit her before she could protest again and she cursed under her breath. That damn Kachina. He must have transferred more power to her than she’d first thought. But how in hell can I help the Dream Catcher? I’m just a witch.

  “I’m sorry, Daisy. I went through the information in my head, trying to find out if it was a mistake. But you’re the only one who comes up in my memory. And the Council was very clear that I’d have a powerful witch as an ally. While she didn’t come out and say your name, she did show me a flower. A daisy.” She forward and snagged up her coffee mug again. “You kicked a skinwalker’s ass.”

  “I had help,” Daisy said in a flat tone. The lost and pleading look in Zoey’s eyes brought guilt. “No one else?” A headshake in response. She took in a noisy breath and let it out. Well, I guess that’s that. You’re in for another fight, Daisy Rhiannon Hammel-Kavanaugh. So better dig your heels in and get to work. “Guess we’re a team then.”

  The relief she saw from her cousin created more guilt for hesitating in the first place. Zoey was just a girl. A woman by law, but still a girl. A lost and lonely college kid, trying very hard to face the loss of her family and the crappy job the Fates had given her. Ah, Pandora, what a legacy you’ve left behind. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. “That’s probably Bridgette.”

  Zoey peeked out the window, turned back and nodded. She let Bridgette in.

  The redhead greeted the girl then flopped into the chair across from Daisy. “Damn dentist needs to do an overlay on one of my teeth. You’d think with all the healing spells, we witches could avoid fucking cavities.”

  Daisy studied her cousin a moment
. “Poor baby.” She didn’t enjoy dental work any more than the next victim, but instead of sounding sympathetic, her words came out dispassionate.

  “What’s up your crawl?” Bridgette took the cup Zoey handed her. “Thanks. I need a pick-me-up.”

  The tall girl smiled and sat on the couch. Her gaze drifted between Daisy and Bridgette until the redhead narrowed eyes on her.

  “Tell me.” Bridgette’s tone meant she would pry if needed.

  “Daisy’s going to be my new partner.” Zoey actually smirked.

  “Partner? For what? Oh, shit. The conjoining?” She shook her head, red hair spilling over her barrette, then sighed. “Well, you’re not doing it alone. Either of you. I don’t trust this Anguisher bastard as far as I can shove him.”

  Daisy hid a smile and Zoey looked even more relieved than before. So, we’re back. Superhero witches fighting a nasty evil again. Well, crap. Is this what the Fates have planned for my future? ‘Cause I don’t like it.

  Bridgette didn’t respond to Daisy’s thoughts. Instead, she said, “So what’s the deal? What does Daisy have to do to help you?”

  Zoey shook her head. “I’m still working on the ritual part. Everything was so jumbled in my head after the Council lady got done with me. But from what I’ve sifted through already, we need to use the box to join our powers somehow.” One hand motioned to the silver Dream Catcher box sitting on the coffee table. It looked about as powerful as a jewelry box. But something about it seemed old, probably all those petroglyphs that crept along the edge. Daisy studied the Native dreamcatcher carved into the lid and she wondered at it.

  Bridgette sniffed. “How long do you think it’ll take you to figure out the ritual?”

  The girl shrugged. “I have no idea. Sleeping helps. A lot of the shit the Council put in there gets worked out in my dreams.”

  Daisy thought of something. “Zoey? Do you have any Native American dreamcatchers in the house? You know, they hang over beds to catch nightmares.”

  “Yeah. You think the one on the box is related?”

  “I think it might be significant.” Zoey waited as though expecting more. “Just a feeling I have, that’s all. I can’t tell you anything else. Maybe the box can. Does it know how to do a conjoining?”

  Zoey sighed. “I don’t think so. Or else it wouldn’t have sent me to the Council in the first place.”

  Bridgette, who’d watched the exchange in silence, let out a noisy breath. “This is really fucked up. A witch conjoining with a Dream Catcher. Why you, Daisy?”

  “Just lucky I guess.” Bridgette narrowed those green eyes like a cat about to pounce, and Daisy smiled at her cousin’s exasperated expression. “I was chosen. By the Council.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that same question.”

  “And?”

  “You remember how the Kachina lent me power to fight the skinwalker.” Daisy fought hard not to run those disturbing events through her head. Bad as Wil had been, she still felt guilt over killing him. At least the ancient skinwalker had been dead before Wil conjured him up, or she’d have two deaths on her conscience. “He left some of his power inside me. Or else he expanded my own power somehow. I’m not sure which. But ever since that day, I’ve been stronger. Able to do spells with more ease than before.”

  Bridgette nodded. “I remember you telling me that. But I didn’t think it was a significant power boost.”

  “Neither did I. But now I’m not so sure.” She shifted in her chair. “I mean why would some ancient Council choose me to help Zoey? You’re as strong as I am. Or you were.” She didn’t say that with any pride, just fact, and Bridgette nodded again. “And we’re just witches. Neither of us even knew about Zoey’s lineage.” That still ticked her off. She’d made obscure notes in the family tree about it. “There’s got to be someone more powerful who can help the girl out.”

  “I’m sitting right here.” Zoey raised brows at Daisy.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about you like you weren’t here. It’s just—it doesn’t seem practical to choose me.”

  “Why the hell not? How many paranormals have kicked a skinwalkers ass back to the ethereal? And not just any skinwalker, from what I’ve heard. But an ancient, brass balls kind. Not to mention his crony on this side.”

  Bridgette chuckled. “She’s got you there, Cousin.”

  “Thanks a heap, Bridge. I’m trying to reason with the girl and you’re acknowledging her commercial message about me. Guess if the Council wants me, I must have something to offer.”

  Bridgette waved a hand at her. “Don’t sound so glum about it. I’ll be there too, remember. I’m not about to let the two of you trounce around doing whatever the hell this conjoining thing is without someone to watch your asses.”

  Daisy smiled. “Eloquently put, Bridge.”

  Zoey leaned forward. “So you’ll do it? You’ll help me?”

  She studied her younger cousin. I don’t seem to have much choice. “Looks that way. Only, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do once we conjoin.” Or even how to conjoin.

  The girl shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out together. I’ll see if my Native dreamcatcher can help the Dream Catcher—” Zoey blew out a noisy breath. “That sounds insane.”

  Daisy offered a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, well, paranormals are known to have an unstable streak here and there.”

  Bridgette snorted. “Understatement.”

  Daisy took up her coffee mug to find the liquid cool, but she drank in anyway. The universe help us. Here we go again.

  Chapter 24

  Give My Regards to Scottsdale

  From the handwriting, Zoey knew the oversized envelope was from her mother, but she hadn’t gotten up the nerve to open it. Rena’s gifts came sporadically, sometimes not at all, and she notoriously sent the wrong size or age-inappropriate things.

  She flopped onto the couch and picked up the envelope. So much had happened in her life. Especially of late. She glanced at the Native dreamcatcher on the coffee table next to her Catcher box, its beaded web like an art piece with feathers dangling from the leather-wrapped hoop. More information had worked itself out in her dreams last night, but she still needed to decipher a hell of a lot more before she and Daisy could attempt a conjoining. One thing she’d learned—Daisy was right about her Native dreamcatcher having something to do with the ritual. Zoey just had no idea when or how to use it. So she put it on the coffee table next to the Catcher box, hoping the close proximity of the two objects would help her learn more.

  She sighed and focused on the envelope in her hand. It was postmarked from London but there was no return address. Typical. Rena moved around a lot and Zoey had no way to reach her. How long had it been since she’d seen the woman? Years. She had stopped crying long ago. Slowly, she turned the envelope over and pulled the sticky flap open. The inside held a card and two small boxes, unwrapped. She took the card out. The front of it had circus characters dancing under a colorful tent. She opened it and read the inside.

  “Hope your birthday is a circus full of fun.” Zoey shook her head. Doesn’t have a clue. A handwritten note fell onto the floor and she scooped it up.

  Sorry this is late, Zoey. Been very busy. I would give you my address but by the time you receive this, Mark and I will have moved. The enclosed gifts are from a little shop in London. Mark knows all the best places for kids. I’ll send my new address if we decide to stay put at our next location.

  Best Wishes, Mother

  So, Mark is the flavor of the month. Zoey pulled the two unwrapped boxes from the envelope. One had Happy Birthday written on it in orange ink. The other a silver holiday ribbon. Well, at least she’s only a few months late with the holiday gift this time. Last time she’d waited until Halloween to send it. She’ll be late to her own damn funeral.

  Zoey opened the birthday box. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a necklace. When she lifted it out, the pendant, a painted clown, hung from a silver c
hain. She shook her head again. Clueless. Absolutely clueless.

  She hesitated a moment then opened the other box. A tiny, silver ring lay between two pieces of cotton. She pinched the ring between her thumb and forefinger and held it up to the light. The ring, with circular patterns carved in it, was so tiny it barely fit the tip of her pinky. A small note in the bottom of the box simply read: Your baby ring.

  “Baby ring?”

  A long-forgotten memory plodded to the front of her brain. She put the ring in the box, hurried into the office, and tore through the closet in search of the old photo albums. Page after page, she perused until she found it. The picture of her father holding her as a newborn infant. And there, on the middle finger of Zoey’s right hand, was the ring.

  She smiled and brushed wetness from her eyes as she peeled back the plastic and took the photo from its resting place. Her father, Joseph Alfonso Vega, had been a handsome man, a bit shorter than her mother. He looked so young in this photo, not too many years older than Zoey was now. On the back of the photo, in blue ink and what she guessed was her father’s handwriting, was a single sentence.

  “I’d lasso the moon for you, sweet Zoey.” Her voice cracked and she sniffed.

  With the photo against her chest, she went back into the greatroom and studied it again. After a moment, she placed it on the coffee table and held up the ring. The silver sparkled in the morning light from the patio slider behind her. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The necklace still lay on the table. Zoey unhooked the chain and slid the clown pendant off, then gently put the ring in its place and clasped the chain around her neck. She fingered it, wondering what her life would’ve been like had her father lived.

  Before she could dwell on a past she would never get, the box tugged at her and she opened it to see an image of Becka Lipner. She leaned forward to get a better view. What was the idiot woman up to now?

  Becka studied something in her hands, a tissue. She’d been crying. Zoey hesitated for just a second before her aura flared and she sent power to the box. Becka threw her head back in laughter. Had the woman gone mad? Before Zoey could ponder that any longer, something grabbed onto her, and it wasn’t the spider web sensation she always got from the box. This was different, cold, malignant. She tried to resist, pull back, but something had her trapped.