The Dream Walker (7 page)

Chapter
13

Alaina yawned as she opened the door of the club leading to the alley. The sun was coming up, and she fumbled in her purse looking for her sunglasses. God, it was going to be hot. It was 6:00 a.m., and the scorching air of the Arizona summer felt like it was hovering in the nineties. There was also humidity. She was looking forward to her air-conditioned apartment.

It had been a good night—she had cleared almost four hundred dollars in tips.

Finding her sunglasses, she walked down the alley looking forward to going home, having a glass of wine, and curling up in bed for a solid eight-hour sleep. She would then get up and go to her yoga class, and get ready for her next shift at the club.

“You didn’t show up.”

She stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around. It was the man who had black stuff all around him from the other night—Mr. Ash. She had been thinking about him a lot, but skipped the meeting he invited her to because one of the other girls had asked Alaina to take over her shift. Alaina was working whenever she could, saving her dollars as she tried to figure out her next step.

But where did he come from? It was as if he had appeared out of thin air. It was then she realized that he must have been standing behind the door to the club so she wouldn’t see him when she left.

He wore a green polo shirt and jeans. His hair was once again impeccably combed, and his facial features showed no emotion. Alaina glanced over her shoulder at the mouth of the alley where her car was parked and decided that if she could outrun him if she needed to. At least she hoped s
o,
anyway.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, as if he read her thoughts.

She said nothing, just stared at him.

“I was hoping to see you the other night at our meeting,” he said, taking a step toward her.

“I took a shift for one of the other girls,” she said.

He nodded. “That was nice of you.”

Taking another step forward, he said, “But if you’d come to one of our meetings, you would see that you are destined for greater things.”

Alaina studied him. She didn’t even know this guy’s name, and despite the fact that what he had said resonated deep within her, it felt as if he was trying to manipulate her. She didn’t like anyone trying to control her.

Yet, as she stood here in front of him, she again felt a power from him. She wanted so badly to believe that she was cut out for more than having men leer at her body for a living, and she kept promising herself that someday she would make changes in her life, but she never di
d.
Maybe it was because she didn’t know what she wanted those changes to be, or maybe she was just too damn lazy.

But everything that Mr. Ash said rang true within her. She could see things others couldn’t, namely the black stuff that this guy seemed to leave around. And it intrigued her there were others like her, others who could see the ash. What if what he said was genuine and she was special? What if she attended his stupid meeting and she was able to have a new life?

“I can see it within you, Alaina,” he said. He looked so harmless, but Alaina could sense something below the surface, something dark. “You want to come to the meeting. You want to understand why you can see the as
h.
You want to know what new beginnings I can offer you.”

Alaina took a step back, not realizing he had gotten so close. “I don’t even know your name,” she said.

“My name’s Daniel.”

Alaina crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

“I can understand your hesitancy about coming to a meeting, Alaina,” he said. “But let me ask you this: what are you going to do when you can’t work at the club any longer?”

Alaina gasped. How had he known?

“I overheard the gossip, Alaina. The girls are saying you are on your way out with nowhere to go.”

It stung that her coworkers were talking behind her back, even if what they said was the truth. Alaina was getting too “old” to sashay her ass around the club.

“We’ll be holding another meeting in two days. You’ll find your answers with us, Alaina. Same place. I hope to see you there.”

He stepped around her, their shoulders brushing.

Despite the warm temperatures of the early Arizona summer morning, Alaina shivered.

Chapter
14

Blake sat with Noah and Nico at the side-of-the-road bar outside Phoenix, not too far from the silo. It was truly a hole-in-the-wall frequented by the misfits and desolates who lived in the surrounding area. The bar was small, maybe sitting a total of forty people. The dark wooden floor was scuffed and scratched, as were all the tables of the same material. The seven cracked red vinyl bar stools were half-full most nights, and the jukebox played music from the sixties. Most of the light bulbs were burnt out, and the place smelled of old beer, body order, and smoke. Jerry, the owner, had been behind the bar for fifteen years, and his face looked as though every single day had been etched in it. He sat behind the bar, his tall, thin frame guarding the till and watching over the patrons, looking for trouble. Blake had no doubt the guy kept a couple of .44s and a baseball bat within reach. He knew he would with this crowd.

After Noah had found the note from Abby, he had expressed his fears that a Colonist would get her, or that The Platoon would find her. How that would happen, Blake had no idea. He was pretty sure The Platoon didn’t even know Abby existed, so there was little chance that they would know her even if they passed her on the street. However, fate and destiny could be bitches . . . but really, what were the odds?

Noah ranted and raved, but Blake knew he was just plain-old scared that he was losing the love of his life. The Warriors decided that they would take turns babysitting him so he didn’t do anything stupid, like throw more furniture or toss himself off a cliff.

Shifts had been divided, and Nico and Blake had been chosen from what everyone called “the cocktail hour to midnight” shift. The reasoning behind this decision was that every other Warrior had mates they wanted to snuggle and rub up against during the early part of the night. Blake and Nico were left to pick up the pieces of the worst time of day for Noah.

Bastards.

It was clear the leader of the Six Saviors wasn’t sleeping. His orange eyes, which were muted with the dark contacts, had deep rings of purple under them. On day two of Abby’s disappearance, Blake had caught a scent of his body odor. Thinking back to Talin, he knew he had to nip that one in the bud, and he and Nico had forced Noah into the shower after he had a few shots of Lagavulin and couldn’t put up much of a fight.

Abby had called three times in the four-day period she had been gone. According to Rayner, who had been on babysitting duty at the time of the first call, it hadn’t gone so well. Noah had yelled at Abby to come home, and Rayner had heard her yelling back at him about tracing phone calls and sending the search party after her. It had ended with Abby hanging up and Noah throwing the phone across the room. Thankfully, it hadn’t been broken.

The next conversation, according to Cohen, had gone much smoother. Noah kept his cool and begged her to come home so they could talk about everything and come up with some compromises that would make both of them happy. Abby refused, but said she appreciated the directions his thoughts were going. That conversation ended with Noah telling her that he loved her, but then the phone flew across the room again after they had hung up.

Blake decided he needed to know who made Noah’s phone. It was like a Timex—it took numerous beatings, but kept on ringing.

Or whatever.

By the third call, Noah was a beaten man, according to Hudson. Noah couldn’t even talk to her; he just handed the phone to Hudson and made tracks for the bar. Hudson said he was happy to talk to Abby, and she sounded good despite the stress of the situation.

Currently, Noah stared blankly up at the TV where the good people of Sports Center prattled on. They couldn’t hear what the talking heads were saying over the Pink Floyd coming from the jukebox. Judging by the far-away stare in Noah’s eyes, he wasn’t really watching anywa
y.
Jerry lumbered over, and Noah ordered another beer and a shot of whiskey. Blake exchanged a glace with Nico, and it was wordlessly agreed that they would be pouring Noah into bed again tonight.

They sat in silence. Noah obviously wasn’t feeling very chatty, and Blake and Nico were on babysitting detail. If Noah felt like talking, they would do so. If Noah felt like drowning his sorrows, they would be his lifejacket.

After watching the hell Talin and Cohen had gone through at the loss of their mates, and now seeing this shi
t-
storm Noah was weathering with Abby being gone, Blake decided he was best off never falling in love. It was too complicated, too upsetting when things went south, and he actually found himself happy things hadn’t worked out with Annis. His life plan before he’d met the Warriors of sleeping around with no strings attached really did seem so much easier, and he decided he would go back to that life. It was nameless sex, his needs were met, and there wasn’t any of this emotional crap.

Fuck. That.

Noah’s phone rang, and all three looked at it.

“Answer it,” Noah mumbled, sliding it over to Blake. “Just let me know she’s okay.”

Blake slid it back over to Noah. “You need to talk to her, man. You need to tell her how much you love her and you want her to come home. She needs to hear it.”

Noah pushed the phone to Nico. “I don’t want to do that right now. I’m too fucked up.”

Nico spun the phone back over to Blake.

It stopped ringing, and all three sat in silence again.

Then it started back up.

Blake looked at the number. It was PRIVATE. Probably a telemarketer, but curiosity got the best of him, and he answered.

“Is this Noah?”

Well, well, well. A voice from the past.

“Hey, Micah,” Blake said. Nico’s eyes got wide, and Noah sat up straight. “What’s shaking, you fuckface? Killed anyone in cold blood lately?”

Micah was the leader of The Platoon, the ones who had killed Talin.

There were a few beats of silence on the other end, and Blake thought he had hung up.

“Is this Noah or not?”

“No, it’s not, you murdering douchebag. It’s Blake, and Noah’s not available.”

Noah closed his eyes and whispered, “Please don’t let him have Abby. Dear God, please.”

“I want to speak with him. Can I give you my number and have him return my call?”

Blake stared at the phone for a minute, then said, “So, what’s with the manners, Micah? Did you read some
Dear Abby
or some shit?”

There was a sigh on the other end. “You’ve always been an insolent simpleton, Blake. Are you going to deliver my message or not?”

Blake let out a whistle, angered at basically being called a dumb fuck, but he held back. He had to admit, his curiosity was piqued about why Micah was calling, and he didn’t want to make him too angry. However, he wasn’t going to let that one slide. “Big words for a big boy with a small cerebrum, Micah. Why don’t you tell me what you want, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give Noah the message.”

There was a beat of silence, then Micah said, “Tell Noah I’m talking about a possible cluster of Colonists and their offspring.”

Blake’s blood ran cold, and he looked at Noah, then at Nico. A cluster of Colonists? And their offspring? Hell, it would be bad enough if it was just one Colonist and a bunch of offspring, but a cluster?

But maybe this was a trap. If they
’d learned anything, it was that Micah and The Platoon could not be trusted. Maybe Micah was playing the Colonist card so he had the opportunity to kill the rest of the Saviors. As much as Blake wanted to believe that it was all bullshit, the sound of Micah’s voice made him think he was telling the truth. His mind also flashed back to the chart of rising crime in the area.

Crap.

“And what makes you think that?” Blake asked.

“We patrol downtown Phoenix on an almost nightly basis, Blake. We’ve seen some strange things.
”

“
That’s nothing new. You’re going to see strange things downtown at night no matter what city you’re in.”

“
I’m aware of that, but this is different. We’ve followed some people. I believe this is bigger than the Saviors or The Platoon. We have one goal in common, and that’s to eradicate the Colonists and their offspring. Unfortunately, I think we’re going to have to work together on this one.”

Blake’s head spun. The guy sounded so normal, so rational. Where was the ba
t-
shit crazy asshole they were used to dealing with? Could he actually be telling the truth, or was he so cracked that he was able to sound normal?

“Can you deliver that message to him, Blake?”

Blake stared at Noah a moment. Could he handle this right now? It seemed like he was one dose of bad news from breaking in half. Or, maybe having a purpose or something that really needed his attention would snap him out of the funk and get him focused again. Blake didn’t know if Abby was coming back, but he did know that Noah needed something else to concentrate on besides her.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him,” Blake said. As he watched Noah down his shot of whiskey, he knew that Noah was in no condition to talk to Micah tonight. “He’s going to have to get back to you tomorrow, though. Give me your number.”

Blake closed his eyes and committed the number to memory. Then he hit the END button and stared at Noah.

“Abby?” Noah asked.

Blake shook his head, and Noah let out a huge sigh. “Okay, good,” he said.

“Jerry!” Blake called. “We need some coffee over here, my friend.”

Noah looked at him and said, “I’d prefer more whiskey.”

Blake nodded. “I’m sure you would. But I need you running on all ten cylinders first thing tomorrow, Noah.”

“What’s going on?” Nico asked.

“If what Micah said is true, shit is about to move from ‘trouble’ to ‘critical.’”

Nico stared at him a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Fucking spectacular.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Blake said.