Free Changeling Dream by Dani Harper Page B

mind. She would allow that she might have imagined that in the grip of emotion. But all the rest was absolutely, completely true.
    Her brain was churning as she walked along Dunvegan’s red brick sidewalks. Maybe a little research was in order. Jillian stopped at the public library and signed up for an hour on the Internet. Three hours later, she was still there. There were still no wolves over 175 pounds on record anywhere in the world. Her wolf was far bigger than any canine she’d come across, and she’d had experiences in college with very large dog breeds such as the St. Bernard and Great Pyrenees, both of which easily topped 200 pounds. Plus, there were the eyes . . . Wolf eye color typically ranged from yellow to brown, occasionally green. But not blue. Not clear, brilliant blue. Conclusion One, she thought, was that the wolf was physically unusual, unique among its kind.
    The wolf had appeared on two similar occasions, both times when she was alone on a trail at night and was injured in some way. Okay, that first time she had been near death. The skinned knees barely counted as an injury by comparison, but still it seemed too much of a coincidence. How had the wolf known that she was in trouble? Why had it come to her? And how about the fact that the first time had been in eastern Ontario, while this latest visitation was nearly two thousand miles west of that province? How had the wolf known where she was? And just what would motivate a wolf to travel so far? Conclusion Two, she decided, was that the wolf possessed unusual abilities, could do things that couldn’t be explained by normal means.
    Those conclusions led her to expand her fields of research. She found articles and stories suggesting that the wolf could be a metaphysical being, a totem animal, a spirit guide, even an Irish pooka. But it didn’t seem likely that such a mystical creature would leave hair on her clothes.
    She looked at the facts again and decided to scratch Conclusions One and Two. Wolves simply didn’t live that long, not in the wild. She had been attacked, what, fourteen years ago? Fifteen? The white wolf that had driven off her assailants had been unquestionably full-grown at the time. Although zoos reported wolves living close to twenty years in captivity, a wild wolf typically had a lifespan of only five or six years. Ten to thirteen at most. And an aged animal wasn’t difficult to spot. Its muscle mass would be diminishing, its coat dull, its teeth worn. There was a look, a feel to the body that no veterinarian could miss. And the wolf she had just encountered on the trail seemed to be very much in its prime.
    So which was more far-fetched, that it was the same wolf that saved her years ago, or that there were two completely identical wolves, and both of them seemed determined to protect her?
    Jillian had a pounding headache and not a single answer by the time she headed home. She had a stack of books beside her on the seat of the truck, but there was no way she was going to open them tonight. Instead, she picked up a container of chocolate pecan fudge ice cream and resolved to eat it in front of the TV until she forgot all about wolves for a while.
     
    Within the wolf, James padded silently through the shadowed clinic. Dogs and cats slept in kennels, a cow and two horses dozed in the livestock wing. None stirred as the Changeling passed by them in the darkness. He wasn’t hunting them . Instead, he inhaled deeply, drinking in the woman’s unique scent, and followed it unerringly. Doors presented no impediment. Every door in the clinic had levered handles that were easily pawed open. Connor had done that on purpose, no doubt. Bet he didn’t expect me to use them. Within minutes, the white wolf stood outside the room where a small, blond woman thrashed in the grip of restless dreams.
    James could sense the tension as he pawed open the door. Was she having a nightmare? Operating with both wolfen instinct and human caution, he