Free A Shift in the Water by Patricia D. Eddy Page A

worry, bud. We’ll figure this out.” The wolf barked at her in agreement.
    Adam was true to his word. Five minutes later he knocked twice and opened the door. “Mar?”
    She waved at him from the couch. The wolf lifted his head and glared at Adam. His possessive growl warned Adam to stay back, but Adam set his bag down and withdrew a syringe, advancing towards the couch warily. The wolf growled louder.
    “What the hell is that?” Mara asked, tightening her hand on the wolf’s scruff.
    “It’s another sedative. Move away.”
    “No.” She got up but instead of listening to him, she moved in front of the wolf. “He doesn’t need it. He’s fine and so am I.” As if the wolf understood her, he nudged her hand with his nose. Sitting up, his head came to her waist. He was massive, even with the how thin he was.
    Mara dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his body. He made a contented sound and leaned his head against hers. The headache that wanted to settle behind her eyes lessened, but a sheen of moisture covered her palms and the strange haunting melody that had been her frequent companion these past few weeks resonated in her ears. The signals her body threw at her were confusing. She felt better, but sweaty palms and auditory hallucinations were never a good thing. The wolf questioned her, nuzzling her ear. Could he sense whatever was going on with her?
    “You’re being stupid,” Adam said.
    “Dammit, Adam. You’re not my mother. Look at him. And me. Does it look like he wants to hurt me?”
    Adam crouched beside the wolf with the syringe still in his hand. The wolf watched him warily, but stayed silent.
    “Maybe he’s still drugged from last night.” He pulled back the wolf’s eyelid. The animal jerked his head away and bared his teeth until Mara stroked his side.
    “He’s eaten almost three pounds of meat today. He asked to go outside this morning and came back in fifteen minutes later. I watched him. He sniffed the whole yard, marked it, and then calmly sat at the door until I let him back in. Wherever he came from, he’s house-trained. Maybe someone on the island kept him as a pet or in some sort of zoo. He’s not going to hurt me. And—” Mara broke off and looked down at the floor. She didn’t know any other way to say it other than saying it. “I feel better around him.”
    “What?”
    “I don’t feel as sick when I’m next to him. He makes me feel better,” she whispered. Absently, she scratched the wolf’s head. His tongue tumbled out of his mouth and he panted.
    Adam’s brows drew down. “Well, therapy dogs are often used with cancer patients. We talked about getting you one—Lil and I. But the kids are allergic and the condo won’t let Lillian have dogs so we didn’t know what we’d do with it when you . . . couldn’t take care of it anymore. I still don’t like it.” He straightened up and set his bag down on Mara’s coffee table. Rummaging in it, he withdrew three more syringes, went to the kitchen for a glass, and dumped all four of the long needles in it. “There’s enough sedative in there to keep him flat on his back for at least a day. If he starts acting at all aggressive, you use one and call me. Or better yet, get out of the house. Will you promise me that?”
    Mara practically melted with relief and sagged against the wolf. “Yes. I promise.”
    “I’ve got to get home. Lisa has a to-do list as long as my arm. Dinner’s at three tomorrow, but come over any time, okay?”
    Thanksgiving. My last Thanksgiving . The idea of family tugged a smile from her lips, despite the finality of the day. Lisa’s turkey, Aunt Lil’s pumpkin pie, Jen’s stupidly delicious green bean casserole topped with Funyons. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
    Standing, Mara reached for Adam to steady herself. He wrapped her in his arms. “I wish you’d move in with us,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t like the idea of you here all alone. Not when . . .”
    He didn’t