Page 87 of Dream Weaver

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 aroundwiththe 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 surebadwas right — or continue to the scene of the crime?

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