Free Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5) by Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James

saw. No one knows but us. I didn’t want to worry them. Not yet … ”
    Mick started to look sad again. I skimmed my fingers along his arm, brushing the edge of a dragon tatt. “I really am fine. You all took good care of me.”
    I could see that Mick didn’t agree, but he didn’t answer.  
    I knew the other reason Mick had said nothing to anyone about my coma—he hadn’t wanted to advertise to the magical world that I was down for the count. If the evil magic-born figured out that someone had bested me, they’d either come out and do devastating things in the world or take notes on how someone had hurt me. They’d try to get at the magic in this hotel, never mind who they killed to find it.
    “What happened?” I asked after a time. “With the demons? And John and Monica? I could swear they weren’t demons themselves, but John sure came after me.”
    “I was never clear on it all.” Mick propped himself on his folded arms and continued to look sexy. “You opened that seam full of demons, and we had a battle. Nash showed up and helped me and Gabrielle drive the demons away from you. He brought Cassandra with him, and we destroyed the demons and their pocket under the motel. Monica and John survived, but they disappeared, and I never found a trace of them.” Mick let out a breath. “Remind me never to piss off Cassandra. I’ve never seen magic like that in a human. She kicked ass without even moving.” The admiration in Mick’s tone was loud and clear.
    “Hey, I’m human,” I reminded him. “Cassandra’s taken, and she’s not interested in guys.”
    Mick looked puzzled. “You’re not human. You’re half goddess.”
    Half evil goddess. It was nice of him to leave out the “evil” part.
    “I was joking,” I said. “I’ve never heard you so impressed. I’m going to get jealous.”
    “Why?” He was still perplexed. “Cassandra’s magic is completely different from yours. I meant she was strong for a human.”
    I started laughing. “You are such a dragon. You take everything so literally.”
    Mick peered at me with that inquisitiveness that could either be funny or terrifying, depending on the circumstance, and kissed the bridge of my nose. “I love you, Janet Begay. Take that literally.”
    I didn’t mind at all.
    ***
    I finally wrested myself out of bed and took a shower. When I emerged, damp, hair dripping, it was dark, and the room was empty. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in two weeks.
    How had Mick kept me alive all that time? He and Cassandra must have used some massively powerful healing magic.  
    Then again, there hadn’t been anything physically wrong with me, Cassandra had said, apart from the slashes and bruises I’d picked up in the fight. My body had functioned, but my mind had kept me asleep.
    As I dressed, I again tried to find the dreams I’d plunged into, to remember them, to figure out what they meant, but met with a great big nothing.  
    I had a vague recollection of Mick and me riding together as we’d done long ago, but that was it. The details had gone. By the time I headed through the hotel for the kitchen, ravenous, even those remnants of the dreams had vanished.
    In the kitchen, Elena had dinner going full throttle. Most of the guest rooms must be full, as Elena was preparing a dozen meals to be carried into the saloon, which served as our dining room. I suspected the hotel was full not only by the number of plates waiting, but also from Elena’s snarls. She’d hired a young man called Don from Whiteriver to be her commis chef, and she sent a steady stream of demands and invective his way. The young Apache man carried out her orders stoically and without fuss.
    I didn’t dare ask Elena to throw something together for me, so I slipped into the giant walk-in refrigerator to scrounge for myself.
    The refrigerator kept enough food for Elena’s meals and casual meals for the staff. Elena went over the foodstuffs every day, making lists to