Page 2 of Dream Weaver
I’d never felt the need for a lucky anything, but now, I was reconsidering.
“I don’t get it. Who would steal an ax?” Joe muttered. “From a fire crew, no less.”
“And not just any ax, but our lucky ax,” Alice said bitterly.
I’d arrived a day after it had disappeared, but apparently, it was a beauty, commanding a place of honor in our lead truck on every single operation since it had joined the department three years ago.
Yes,joinedreally was the term the crew used, like the ax had marched in of its own volition one day.
You’d think that ax was a holy relic, the way the crew spoke of it.
“We should never have told that reporter about it,” Vic muttered.
That was another thing about this crew — all the conspiracy theories about who’d stolen the lucky ax and why. Most started with the magazine article that had brought the lucky ax to the attention of budding thieves across the country.
And, hey. Who wouldn’t want a tool that was rumored to control fire?
Personally, I found the whole thing a little nutty.
“What made it so special, again?” Mark asked.
Vic snorted. “Where do I start?” He let a beat go by, then ticked off an entire list on ash-smeared fingers. “Custom-made. Perfectly balanced. Never needed sharpening…”
“Gorgeous lines. A real beauty,” Joe added.
Chuck gave me a look that asked,Is he talking about an ax or a thoroughbred?
“Where did you get it?” Mark asked.
“A local blacksmith made it for us,” Alice said.
“Can we get him to make a new one?”
“Getherto make a new one, you mean.” Alice looked at the cab of the truck, considering. “Maybe we can. I’ll ask the captain when we get in.” Then she sighed. “I just hope she can work her magic again.”
I shifted in my seat. Magic?
Rumor had it, you couldn’t swing a black cat in Sedona without hitting some kind of supernatural, be that a witch, warlock, shifter — like me — or even the occasional vampire. Enough that a secret government agency tasked with monitoring such things maintained an office in town. I even knew the agent staffing it — Ingo, a wolf shifter I’d worked with a few timesbefore he’d left firefighting. I’d given Ingo a call when I’d arrived in Sedona, but we hadn’t had a chance to meet up yet.
I made a mental note to ask him, though I hoped the rumors were exaggerated, especially when it came to magic. My clan didn’t exactly pal around with witches and warlocks — not since a series of deadly clashes in my home range. That bloody interlude happened two centuries ago, but old grudges still ran deep.
Parched scenery blurred past the truck window. I stared off into the distance, thinking. Had it been a mistake to leave Wyoming for a season in Arizona? I hoped not. But things weren’t exactly off to a great start, and we were technically still in the preseason.
I closed my eyes, trying to reserve judgment. If this crew turned out to be as weird as I feared, I could always head back to Wyoming. But I would see the season through first — and hopefully quench the inexplicable urge to come to Sedona that had been eating at me ever since I’d passed through for a fire a few years earlier.
It’s our destiny,my inner beast rumbled.
I snorted, thinking of the arid landscape and this superstitious crew. This was my destiny?
God, I hoped not.
I folded my arms, tucked my chin against my chest, and let myself drift off to sleep.
Chapter Two
ABBY
Dreams visited my sleep the way tourists visited Sedona — lots of them and all too often. I rarely remembered them, though, other than the overall feeling.
