Page 2 of Wind Called

Because after Bellamy had gotten to talking with that one patron at Sedona Vines and he’d told her he was looking for someone to be a caretaker at his house while it was on the market, she’d made sure to speak to her clan’sprimaand her consort, just to make sure she wouldn’t be stepping on any toes by going to live at the ranch. Both Connor and Angela had agreed that, while the tradition might have had some merit back in the day, neither of them could think of a single reason why it wouldn’t be okay for Bellamy to live in red rock country for a while, especially since the situation wasn’t permanent.

And if the leaders of both the McAllister and Wilcox clans couldn’t come up with a reason for her not to hang out in Sedona for a few weeks or months or whatever, then she didn’t see why she should turn down the chance to live in the lap of luxury for a bit.

This reassurance seemed to be all Bree needed to hear, because she nodded and said, “Sounds good to me. Then let’s get going — I have to be at Enchantment by five to set up.”

The two women headed down the back stairs, where they loaded Bellamy’s suitcases into the cavernous cargo compartment in the Suburban. In direct contrast, her own vehicle was a small Fiat convertible, something she absolutely loved zipping around in with the top down but wasn’t exactly the best thing in the world for transporting her wardrobe.

Once everything was loaded in the big Chevy, Bree closed the hatch. “I’ll follow you over there,” she said.

“Okay,” Bellamy replied, then paused. Although they’d been good friends for most of their lives, she knew Bree had been dancing around her own issues this summer, and she wondered whether she should bring it up now or pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened.

Well, sometimes you just had to go for broke.

“So…you’re really for sure not going back to college?”

Bree’s full mouth set, and she paused for a second to look around them. They were utterly alone back here, in the small carve-out designated as parking for the apartment over the candy store, but it was clear she didn’t want anyone overhearing them.

“If I were going to head back to Flagstaff, I should have been doing it by now,” she said lightly. “Classes start on Monday. But no — I tried college, and it just wasn’t for me. It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

Although her expression seemed casual enough, Bellamy could practically sense the tension radiating off her friend. No one could ever accuse Levi McAllister of being a hard-ass, not when he’d always seemed like one of the most open and accepting people she’d ever met, but Bellamy had a feeling he’d still given his only daughter some grief over dropping out of college, and she knew Hayley had, since she’d overheard her friend’s mother talking about it with her dad Jordan only a week ago.

Well, not her circus. Her job as Bree’s friend was to be supportive, and she supposed eventually this would all blow over. Honestly, she had no idea how much of a difference a degree would even have made for her friend — she’d still play her gigs around the Verde Valley and teach guitar and piano and voice on the side. A diploma wasn’t going to change any of that.

“Let’s go,” she said. “And if you have time, I’ll give you a tour of the new house.”

Marc Trujillo’s eyes opened, straining against the darkness. For just the barest moment, he couldn’t remember where he was…until he realized he was lying in his bed in the house he’d bought a little less than a year earlier, in the Sam Hughes historic neighborhood near the University of Arizona campus in Tucson. Cool air from the vents above his bed caressed his face, and he knew he should have been comfortable enough despite the blazing August heat that lingered long after the sun had gone down.

And yet….

He sat up and looked around. Pale green numerals glowed from the clock at his bedside, telling him it was a little past one in the morning. Everything was utterly quiet.

Well, except for the pounding of his heart.

Very little of the dream remained. Only that sense of foreboding, like a distant rumble of thunder on the horizon.

And the woman.

Her back had been to him, so all he’d seen was lush coppery hair blowing in the wind. However, even though his mother had hair nearly that shade, he didn’t think she was the woman he’d seen in his dream.

And while most people would have dismissed it, telling themselves they’d had a nightmare, Marc knew this latest dream was something more than that.

Much more.

Witchy tradition held that seers tended to be women, and his mother Caitlin had that gift. But when Marc was around eleven and he’d started to have dreams that came true, his family began to realize her oldest child had inherited that talent, even if it was very rare for a man to be a seer.

Most of the time, his visions weren’t of anything terribly unsettling, although he’d dreamed of theprima’sdaughter getting into a car accident on prom night a couple of years ago, thanks to a rare and catastrophic failure of the vehicle’s self-driving mechanism. But Rosa had been fine, although the SUV she’d been riding in was a total loss.

This dream, however…it worried him, even if there hadn’t been anything about it that should have caused such disquiet. Only the red-haired woman standing with her back to him, and vague shapes in the distance that made him think of Sedona’s red rocks.

Well, he would talk it over with his mother tomorrow. Caitlin McAllister had been dealing with prophetic dreams for most of her lifetime, and if she didn’t have any helpful advice to offer, then no one would.

With any luck, it would turn out to be nothing at all.

Holding that thought in his mind, Marc rolled over onto his side, pulled in a few measured breaths, and told himself to go to sleep.

Unfortunately, his mother only seemed troubled when he recounted the dream to her. They sat in the living room of the house where Marc had grown up, with its breathtaking vistas of the Catalina Foothills beyond a wall of glass that gave the space such a sensation of light and air, while the swimming pool sparkled a cool blue-green under the bright August sun. Even though the patio was shaded and had multiple ceiling fans, it was still far too hot to sit outside, so they remained indoors, drinking iced tea and discussing the dream that had awoken him the night before.

“She had red hair, but you don’t think it was me,” Caitlin McAllister said. A few threads of silver had started to show in her copper-hued locks, but her face was still fresh and youthful, and she didn’t really look old enough to have a son who would be turning twenty-four in less than a month.

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