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Desert Magick: Dream Catcher Page 9
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“Oh, she knows that.”
When it didn’t seem like there were any more communication from Daisy’s mom, Zoey said, “Do you have any messages from Aunt Mena or Uncle Alex?”
Grammy Helen stood very still for a moment, as though she heard something no one else did. Then she nodded. “Just that they both love you.”
Zoey swallowed hard and blinked. “Please tell them I love them too.”
“I will, great-granddaughter. I will.”
“Careful, Helen,” Scarlet said. She sounded a bit strained. “Don’t snap the connection.”
“Oh, don’t get your skirt in a knot. I didn’t say or do anything against the rules.”
Swallowing her loss and grief, and not wanting to lose any connections to the other side, Zoey decided to turn the focus back to her current problem. “Grammy, I need to know about the Anguisher.”
The ghost frowned and turned hard eyes on her. “What do you want to go messing with that nasty man for?”
“I think he’s after hope.”
Helen froze, her face grew dark, and she let out a long string of curses, some of which Zoey had never heard before. That can’t be good.
“What’s he been doing?” Grammy Helen’s voice was so low, Zoey had to strain to hear her.
She took in a deep breath and started talking. Her great-grandmother’s ghost paced and grunted and sighed, while Zoey told her everything that had transpired since she’d inherited the box. Well, everything the box allowed her to share in mixed company.
“I’ve never dealt with that bastard myself, Zoey. But it sure sounds like he’s trying to take what doesn’t belong to him. He might be trying to dilute your powers too, so be on your guard.”
Zoey’s heart took off at a gallop. Holy crap! She ignored Bridgette’s stare.
“I can’t hold her here much longer,” Scarlet said in a strained voice. Sweat beaded her forehead and the blackness surrounding her aura wavered like a breeze had caught it.
Grammy glanced at the medium and back to Zoey. “I’ll have to look into this. I can’t recall anyone in recent generations having problems with him. I’ll get back to Scarlet here and let you know if I find out more.” She faded with a refrain of curses that would have made a sailor blush, and a twinge of loss knotted in Zoey’s throat.
Chapter 11
A Kiss in the Dark
“So, you think he’ll stay put?” Noah helped Daisy in the kitchen, cleaning up dinner.
“If he has any brains at all he will. If not, I’ll hunt his ass down again and perform some of those nasty spells Bridgette threatened him with.” Several were made up but enough were real and could make a man miserable for some time.
The last thing they needed right now was Simon the siren causing trouble again. Especially with Zoey’s problems. Daisy had filled Noah in on the details of her Dream Catcher cousin and had left phone and email messages with several relatives. Not wanting to expose the girl, she’d kept those messages obscure, mainly inquiries about an elusive paranormal family sect. We’ll see if anyone takes my bait.
Helen’s spirit was trying to find out more information from the other side. Whether she would accomplish that, was anybody’s guess. The Anguisher’s home wasn’t called the underworld for nothing. And from Helen’s reaction, the Anguisher didn’t exactly have a pleasant reputation.
Perky had eaten and now lay on his pillow in the family room, content and half-asleep. She smiled at the terrier mutt. Ah, to be a dog. If only my life were that simple.
“Well, if Simon does show up again, you get Bridgette and me to help.” Noah shook his head and raised a hand at her protest. “I don’t want you going against him alone.” He moved behind her at the sink. Arms wrapped around her waist and his breath caressed her neck. “I know you’re a stronger witch than before, babe. But I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His grip tightened.
Noah was the best man she could have in her life, the best husband, but he’d been helpless against the skinwalker. Helpless and afraid. His paranormal ancestors had left him without active powers. Neither of them had even known he had paranormal blood until recently. Daisy did everything she could think of to ease his pain, reassuring him that his ability to see the hidden symbols on her books helped save her life that day. Hell, he helped save all our lives.
She took in a long breath and let it out. “I will. I promise.”
“That’s all I ask.” He kissed her neck and she tilted her head to give him more access. His hands moved from her waist in a downward motion and to the front until they caressed her where she was most sensitive. She mewed. “We have an hour before we have to leave.” Noah’s voice held a husky quality that left no doubts what he wanted.
“Yeah.” Her own breath grew rapid and her heart picked up it’s pace. “But the dishes—”
“Can wait. I wiped the table and put the leftovers in the fridge.” His fingers teased her in just the right spot and she squealed.
Quickly, she turned off the water, swiped hands on the towel, and maneuvered around to face him. He looked delicious just now and she ran fingers through his thick hair. No baldness in his family line. Having had a birthday a few weeks ago, Noah was now forty with a few strands of silver decorating his short sideburns. She caressed his earlobes in the familiar manner that made him groan. His sensitive ears, tolerance to cold weather, and willingness to help in the kitchen all hinted at his paranormal line—ancient faeries known as Grogochs. Most of the short, hairy Grogoch features had been bred out of their descendents. And though they once had the ability to turn invisible, their descendents no longer had that gift. A shame really, since that talent would’ve come in handy in the recent search for the siren.
Noah’s lips met hers, warm and sexy, and previous thoughts fled so she could focus on the moment. He moved down the front of her neck with licks and kisses, causing goose bumps in his wake, until he reached her breasts. One hand pressed against her back, while the other released a breast from its hiding place beneath her tank top. She mewed as his tongue teased her nipple into hardness and she pressed against him. Warm hands reached under the waistband of her shorts and tugged. Within seconds, she stood in the kitchen in only her tank top, which was now around her waist. She pulled his shirt over his head and got his shorts unbuttoned but the zipper didn’t want to cooperate. With a curse and a grunt, she finally got it working. Impatient now, she pushed his shorts and underwear down. He let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them then steered her to the island and lifted her up onto it.
She gasped at the chilly granite beneath her bare skin. “Hey, that’s cold.”
He ignored her protests and fingered her until she was wet and panting. She reached down and stroked him. Between moans, he suckled her breasts until she couldn’t stand the wait and pulled him close. In one smooth thrust, his full length entered her and they got into a familiar rhythm, tension flooding out with the release they both wanted and needed.
They held each afterward, him standing in front of her, naked, head resting on her shoulder. At least their sex life hadn’t been hurt by Daisy becoming a damn superhero. She relaxed into him and they stayed that way for a moment longer.
Noah gave a satisfied sigh. “We should do this more often.”
They hadn’t done it on the island in quite some time. When they first bought the house, they had initiated each room like a good newlywed couple, but that was over five years ago. He helped her down and she smirked. “I have to clean this counter again.”
“That’s a good wench.” He smacked her bare ass as she bent to get her panties.
She grinned and slapped at his hand. “Stop that. You’ve had enough for now.” The microwave clock read 7:42. They had an appointment with their therapist at eight. Doctor Knight had helped Daisy when her mother died, and now she was helping them both deal with the aftermath of the skinwalker incident. Her home office was ten minutes away. “We have to leave soon.”
She grabbed the rest of h
er clothes and headed into the master bathroom with Noah and Perky on her heels. The Native dreamcatcher hanging on the wall above their bed caught her eye as she passed. It was large, the hoop at least twelve inches across, and decorated with colorful feathers and beads. Aunt Marge, Bridgette’s mom, had given it to her. According to Native lore, the webbing served to filter out bad dreams and only let the good find the sleeper. It reminded her of the skinwalker nightmares she was still having and she gave a sigh.
* * * *
Noah eased the hybrid into traffic on Frank Lloyd Wright Boulevard. “Poor Zoey. Man, I can’t imagine anyone getting stuck with that job. Especially being so young.”
“Yeah. I had no idea Pandora’s box was real. Well, it was originally depicted as a jar, but I guess that’s not so accurate after all. I can’t believe no one else in the family knew about this. Outside Zoey’s tight circle anyway. It’s not even mentioned in any of my genealogy books.”
They stopped at a red light. “Kinda pisses you off, huh?”
“Yeah. Actually it does.”
They listened to the radio the rest of the short trip, Daisy singing along now and then. It was good to have someone who didn’t need to talk to all the time. Comfortable silence. When they passed a grocery store, she made a mental note to pick up a few items. Tomorrow. Tonight was for healing.
By the time they reached Doctor Knight’s home, clouds had begun to move in and the wind picked up. Another monsoon for sure. Noah parked on the street and they got out. In the driveway, sat Doctor Knight’s gray BMW sedan. Odd, since she usually parked it in her garage. Lightening flashed in the southern sky, and by the delayed crack of thunder, Daisy guessed it to be about ten miles away.
“Wonder if that’s headed our direction?” Noah didn’t care for lightening storms. And monsoons could pack a nasty wallop. Especially when they created microbursts with winds so fierce they could rip a metal awning right off a gas station.
A hot gust blew Daisy’s hair around her face and the smell of rain filled her nostrils. “I’m guessing yes.” She loved storms, had since childhood. Perky didn’t like thunder. Poor dog. “We’d better get straight home after this or I’ll be mopping the floor tonight.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
She gave him a playful smack. “He can’t help it.” Arm in arm, they hurried up the walk toward the door. It opened just as they stepped onto the porch.
“Hello, Daisy, Noah.” A woman about Daisy’s height, with dark features that made her look younger than her fifty-odd years, offered a smile.
“Hi, Liz.” The woman liked her patients to use her name instead of her title. Daisy brushed her sandals on the mat before stepping inside, and Noah did the same behind her.
“Looks like a monsoon tonight.” Elizabeth shook her head as she shut the door.
“Something wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. Just had my car washed today.”
“Bummer. You need to pull it in the garage? We can wait.”
Liz waved a hand. “Garage is full. Quinn’s back from college and we’re storing his stuff while he finds a place.”
Noah sniffed. “Ah. The prodigal son.”
“No kidding. He came home with more crap than he took out.”
Daisy chuckled as she followed the doctor through the family room. “So did he graduate already?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled.”
“Art history degree.” Liz blew a noisy breath out of her mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t complain. I’ve got friends whose kids dropped out and will probably be working in fast food joints the rest of their lives. But I want more for my kid. You know?”
“He planning to teach?” Daisy stepped into the woman’s office with Noah right behind. This room was light with muted tones and conservative art on the walls. Quite different from the rest of Liz’s house, which sported boldly painted walls and modern furniture.
Liz shut the door. “I wish he would. At least he’d get a steady paycheck. He wants to be an appraiser but he hasn’t found a job in that field.” She got a pained look on her face. “Right now he’s working at a framing shop in the mall.”
“Ouch,” Noah said as he sat on the large sofa.
Liz grunted. “I hope he finds something that pays better. I want grandkids someday.”
Daisy smiled and sat next to her husband, while they waited for Liz to get out her notepad and settle into a chair opposite them. The woman was an empath who took only paranormal patients. Which Daisy guessed made her job a bit easier. And she’d been a friend of Daisy’s mom Penny.
“So, how are the dreams?” Business Liz studied Daisy. “Making any progress with those exercises I gave you?”
She didn’t hide her frustration. The woman would sense it anyway. Not even a witch could hide emotions from an empath. And Liz would definitely have her senses open right now. “Sometimes. Not as quickly as I’d like.” Her therapist nodded and scribbled something. Just once, I’d like to see what she’s writing.
“How about you, Noah? How’re you sleeping?”
“Most nights I do all right. But I’m more worried about Daisy.”
By now, every paranormal in the Phoenix area knew about Daisy’s encounter with and defeat of the skinwalker. And she would bet the afterworld did too, the way ghosts loved to gossip. No one would hold it against her for protecting herself and her family, but she didn’t want to draw attention from mortals, especially the police. The cops had already declared the man’s death an accident and she planned to keep it that way.
There were courts run by paranormals. And lawyers to handle special cases when they came up. But no one in Wil’s family had disputed his death. Still, the guilt over killing someone, even an evil bastard like Wil, left a sour feeling in Daisy’s gut.
Liz nodded and wrote in her notebook again. “How about those exercises to get rid of guilt?”
Yep, she had her senses open. “They work sometimes. But I killed a man, Liz. How do you get over that?” Dark eyes studied her, waiting. “I mean, I know it was self-defense and he was a bastard for trying to kill us but—” How many times do we have to go over this? She sighed to herself. Until I can accept that it wasn’t my fault. Until I can sleep without nightmares and live without guilt.
Liz gave her an affirming look and wrote in her notebook again.
* * * *
By the time they left Liz’s house, rain, thunder and lightening had begun. A flash, followed immediately by a large crack, made Daisy jump as they headed back down Frank Lloyd Wright.
Noah whistled. “Damn, that sounded close.”
Daisy smirked. “Want me to drive?”
That seemed to ease Noah’s worry a bit and he chuckled. “No, but if you could make a witchy umbrella, that’d be great.”
“Sorry, big boy. Too obvious.” Someone would definitely notice a dry car tooling down the street during a full-blown monsoon. Even after dark. And there was nothing she could do about lightening if it decided to strike, no spell she knew of to deter such a force.
Noah drove a bit slower because of the heavy rain but they made it home in just under fifteen minutes. Perky was hiding under their bed, as he usually did when a monsoon rolled in, and Noah had to coax him out with a treat. Poor pup was trembling. At least he hadn’t soiled the floor. Daisy uttered a calming spell and turned on the radio to help drown out the storm until he stopped shaking.
She had Perky in her arms and her back to the phone when Noah nodded to it. “There’s a message.”
She turned and pressed the flashing button. “Hey, Daisy. It’s Connie Dryden. We’d like you and Noah to come over for a barbeque. I called Bridgette too. Zoey will be here and I think she’d like you to come.” She left the day and time and Daisy jotted it down on a pad.
She shrugged at Noah. “Connie’s never invited us over before. I hope everything’s all right.”
“I’m sure it is, babe. Probably just wants us there for Zoey.”
> “Yeah. You’re probably right.” But her witch senses flared and she couldn’t help feeling like something nasty was about to hit the proverbial fan.
Chapter 12
By the Light of the Desert Moon
Zoey gripped a six-pack of imported beer as she walked the half-block to the Dryden’s house, sandals slapping on the hot pavement, musing at all the crap she’d been through the past few days. The box demanded energy several times a day, leaving her weary and irritable, and she guessed it was because it hadn’t been fed since Mena’s death. Evidently, it had some sort of starvation mode, a safety feature that allowed it to store extra energy for lean times between Dream Catchers and could work like that for up to ten years. Zoey was almost of age when her aunt was killed, which explained why it hadn’t protected the woman.
Whoever created the box had to have thought of that morbid probability. Not for the first time, she wondered just who had made the box. Grammy Helen’s ghost had no answers and the box either didn’t know or didn’t care to share information on its creator.
Thankfully, the dark spot on the vortex hadn’t grown. Zoey heard the Anguisher’s laughter at least once a day, though, enough to fill her entire body with dread. There had been two murder-suicides this week in Scottsdale alone, prompting her to give more energy to the dreams in an attempt to quell the Anguisher’s ambitions.
She needed to figure out what to do before things grew worse. And she had no doubts they would get more troubling. Scarlet had called this morning with another message from Grammy Helen, ordering Zoey to deal with the Anguisher through the Catcher box only. Just how she was supposed to do that, she had no idea. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
She pushed disturbing thoughts away to focus on the moment. A VW bus sat in the Dryden’s circular drive. The only other car in the drive was Jason’s silver Honda. Either her cousins had carpooled or Bridgette wasn’t here yet.
Jason’s single-story house was similar to others in the neighborhood, as they’d been built around the same time in the 1970s and 1980s, a stark contrast to the one across the street. Someone had bought the older territorial on the one-acre lot a couple of years ago and torn it down, creating a giant Mediterranean eyesore in its place, complete with two balconies and a front yard fountain that looked like it belonged to a government building. A “For Sale” sign hung from a post out front with a “Reduced” sign just below.