Changeling Dream

by Dani Harper

  “So what are we going to do, bossman?”

  He wiped his face on his sleeve. Sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to do. No idea. She loves him and what is she supposed to think except that he’s taken off? And you know what the worst thing is? She’s pregnant. James told me yesterday, had only just learned it himself.”

  “I thought she was. Her aura’s been different for a while now. I felt a bit guilty but there was no way to warn her that human birth control methods are usually ineffective against Changeling males. She still thinks James is human.”

  “Which brings us to a very human problem. As far as Jillian knows, James went missing on the same damn day he found out she’s expecting.” He rested his arms on the top rail again, laid his forehead on them. “What’s that going to look like?”

  “Like he didn’t want the baby—or her.”

  “What else could she think? Never mind the fact that she doesn’t deserve that kind of heartbreak and stress. When he finally shows up, what’s he going to say? What’s the damage going to be to their relationship? And what’s the damage going to be to James if he loses their relationship?”

  “You’re thinking too far ahead, Connor.”

  “Like hell I am. James loves her. I wasn’t sure he could, wasn’t sure he’d let himself, but he loves her. He’s happy—you’ve seen him with Jillian.”

  “He’s come a long way.”

  “We all prayed that James would come back to us, Birkie. Thirty damn years we prayed he’d come back. I’m scared shitless he’ll go back to being a wolf and . . . and. . . .”

  “You don’t want to let him go.” Birkie put a hand on his back as he buried his face in his arms.

  “I can’t let him go. I can’t. He’s my brother. We only just got him back.”

  “Well, there’s only one thing to do then.”

  “What?”

  “We have to tell her the truth.”

  Connor laughed harshly without looking up. “Oh, that’ll work well. Bill already tried that. And besides, she doesn’t trust any of us, not after this, and she especially doesn’t trust me. She won’t let me within a hundred yards of her.”

  “She trusts me. And maybe she won’t let you near her in human form, but there’s another option.”

  “You’re kidding.” He dropped his hands and turned to stare at her. “You must be.”

  “Desperate times call for desperate actions, hon.”

  At the sound of Birkie’s voice, Jillian sat up and ran a hand through her hair. She’d been lying down, half on, half off the mattress, her face next to the white wolf’s.

  “I’m sorry, dear, were you sleeping?”

  “No. No, just resting.” She reached up and accepted a hug from the older woman, scooted over so Birkie could sit on the edge of the mattress. “I’m sorry I took off, I just—”

  “You just had to see your wolf, I understand that.” Her friend smiled at her, patted her arm. “You didn’t know he was still with us. Sounds like he’s a hero too.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, he saved my life. Again.” Jillian felt herself tear up once more. Was it pregnancy hormones that had her blubbering at the drop of a hat? She felt like she’d cried more in two days than she had in her whole life. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, then related yesterday’s events in the parking lot. She was thankful anew for the fact that she could tell her friend anything. Sure, there was a very real white wolf lying right there, but Birkie had believed her from the beginning.

  “The wolf loves you a lot, hon. He was there for you, protected you.”

  “I tried to protect him too, but everyone got so weird. Birkie, they even threw me out of surgery! God, I wish James had been here to help me.” Her eyes filled again, and she swiped at them irritably. “In fact, I just don’t understand why he’s not here now. Do you know where he is?”

  Birkie took her hand, squeezed it. “Well now, yes I do, but it’s going to take some explaining.”

  “Where—”

  “Are we friends, Jillian? Do you trust me?”

  “Well, yes, of course. Did something happen to James? Is he all right?” Her eyes widened suddenly. “He left again, didn’t he? I told him I was pregnant and . . . and. . . .” She couldn’t finish.

  “And I’ve never seen a man so thrilled. I am too, by the way. We all are. Of course James didn’t leave.”

  “Then where the hell is he? Look, please stop being mysterious and just tell me straight out.”

  Birkie shook her head. “Honey, I need to ask for your patience. I’ll tell you absolutely everything, I promise, but I need a promise from you that you’ll hear me out, that you’ll listen with an open mind and an open heart. Can you do that?”

  “I’m not liking this.” Jillian had never seen her friend so serious. “But okay, I’ll try.”

  “Last night Connor was doing something you didn’t understand.”

  “Ha! Doesn’t take much understanding. Blood’s not generic, you can’t mix species. That’s elemental enough for a third-grader.”

  “Ordinarily that’s true. If your wolf was an ordinary wolf. But he’s not.”

  Jillian frowned, put a hand on the animal’s head. “The DNA test said he’s a wolf. I showed it to you.”

  “And exactly what kind of wolf did it say he was?”

  “Well, that was inconclusive, but he’s still a wolf.”

  “What if I told you he wasn’t? Better yet, what if I showed you he wasn’t?” Birkie turned and whistled softly.

  Jillian was about to reply but her voice suddenly caught in her throat. An enormous wolf had appeared in the doorway. It filled the doorframe for a long moment, then stepped cautiously into the room at Birkie’s beckoning wave.

  “Birkie!” she managed to whisper as she grabbed her friend’s arm and held it tightly. “It’s as big as my wolf. My God, there’s more than one.”

  “Oh yes. Quite a few, actually. These two are brothers.”

  Jillian goggled briefly at her friend, but had to turn her eyes back to the newcomer. It turned slightly, and she could see the silvery pelt was marked with a blanket of black over the shoulders—a saddleback pattern that was rare in wolves. Birkie extended a hand to it, and the huge creature trotted over immediately to lie at their feet. Jillian swallowed hard, opened her mouth to speak, closed it again.

  “Here, you can pet him if you want to. He’s mostly tame.” Birkie rubbed the dark wolf behind the ears.

  Jillian reached over to offer a hand to the handsome creature when she got a good look at its eyes. They weren’t green but gray. Pale gray. For an instant she felt she was on the verge of remembering something. Then whatever it was eluded her, leaving her strangely disappointed. “He has really unusual eyes for a wolf,” she managed.

  “Yes, he does. So does your wolf, doesn’t he?”

  “Well, yes. It’s one of the things that I can’t explain. Wolves don’t have blue eyes. Yellow eyes, brown, sometimes green. But not blue. And not gray either. It’s like a whole new subspecies.” The wolf touched its nose to Jillian’s hand, licked her fingers, then bumped its head under them to be petted. “He seems to be just as friendly as my wolf, too.” She sighed, shook off her fascination with the new animal and turned to her friend. “This is one hell of a secret you’ve been keeping. Why? Why didn’t you tell me about this? After everything I confided in you about the white wolf, you couldn’t mention you already knew about him, that you had a wolf, too?”

  “Oh, he’s not my wolf, hon, he’s a friend. They’re both good friends. And because of that, I wasn’t free to tell you about them. I told you once that I keep confidences and I do.” Birkie spoke to the dark wolf then. “I think you’d better show her now.”

  The wolf rose and trotted a few yards away.

  “What does this have to do with James? Where is he?” Suddenly Jillian’s scalp prickled strangely. She touched her hair and was surprised to find it standing straight up. She ran a hand through it, felt it crackle a
nd snap with static. “What the—” She looked at Birkie. Her friend’s hair was always perfectly styled, but there were stray hairs unwinding themselves now, and all of them were drifting upward.

  A cold draft gusted through the room, and a shiver ran through Jillian from neck to tailbone. She glanced around for the source but the windows were closed and only a hallway lay beyond the door. The loft door was high above and behind her, but the breeze wasn’t coming from there. It was coming from—

  The dark wolf. Tiny bits of straw and hay were eddying around the floor, slowly at first, then faster. They swirled about the wolf, and blue sparks snapped and popped in the air. I’ve seen all this before. But that was—

  Without any warning, the big animal was gone and in its place stood Connor Macleod. He looked just as he usually did, with his denim shirt and torn jeans, and his hands resting in the pockets of a rumpled lab coat. The breeze died away. A few blue sparks crackled in the air, fell to the concrete and went out.

  Stunned, Jillian felt as if her brain had winked out as well, as if a fuse had blown. Her mind was blank for a long moment, then it was suddenly bombarded with an avalanche of thoughts and ideas, all coming together at once. Bill’s words. The vision in the loft. The wolf in her apartment. The stories she had read, the legends she had studied. Brothers, Birkie had said, the dark wolf and the white wolf. Gray eyes—and blue.

  She put her hands to her head, held on tight as it threatened to explode. Then the thoughts converged, neatly, like streams feeding into a river. They merged, melded, flowed smoothly and effortlessly into a whole. Jillian put her hands down, drew a deep breath. Another. Put her shaking hand on the white wolf’s broad forehead, stroked it gently, let calmness and peace fill her until she was steady and could open her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” It was Connor. Birkie was looking at her, too.

  “Is that a trick question? A wolf just turned into my boss right in front of me, my boyfriend turns out to be a wolf I’ve known for years, and I’m supposed to be okay?” Jillian laughed a little, ran her hand through her hair. “Actually, a lot of things make sense now, and that’s what scares me. It’s a good thing to be worried about being crazy, though, isn’t it? Like if you think you might be insane, you’re really not?”

  “You’re not crazy, not at all.” Birkie slid an arm around her and squeezed. “In fact, you’re doing just great, honey. Give yourself some time. It’s a lot to take in, a lot to get used to.”

  Jillian shook her head in wonder. “Oh God, it feels like I woke up on another planet. A few moments ago, werewolves lived only in movies and books. Now they’re real. And I can barely believe I said that.” She looked up at Connor. “You were using Devlin’s blood last night because he’s a werewolf, too, isn’t he?”

  “A Changeling, yes. Our whole family. Bill and Jessie. Fitzpatrick. A few others.”

  “Fitzpatrick? Sergeant Fitzpatrick? You’re telling me that the head of our local RCMP detachment is a werewolf?” Although why that should be any more shocking than the rest, she didn’t know.

  “Changeling,” Connor corrected. “Yes, Fitz is a Changeling just like the rest of us.”

  “Changeling.” She tried out the word. “Well, at least it sounds a little less Hollywood than werewolf.” Jillian turned to Birkie then. “Is everyone in town a Changeling? Are you a Changeling too?”

  Birkie smiled and shook her head.

  “Well, that’s a relief. I was starting to feel like the only human left.” Jillian looked down at the wolf as she stroked its ears. The blanket was rising and falling steadily now; she didn’t have to strain to see if he was breathing. He. The wolf. James. Cold fear abruptly squeezed her heart. “I think . . . I think I’d rather believe that James left me than believe that he’s lying here hurt like this. Is he going to be okay?”

  “I can’t promise anything,” said Connor. He checked the white wolf’s vitals, then laid a hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could, but you’re a vet. You saw the damage for yourself, and you can guess that James isn’t out of the woods yet. Ask me again in forty-eight hours, ask me when he wakes up. He’s stable right now; we’re all hoping and praying he stays that way.”

  He was right. As a vet, it was exactly the prognosis she’d give, but it still hit her hard. The wolf could die, and she’d already shed plenty of tears at the thought of losing her lupine friend. But to never see James again . . . Dear God. She shoved the terrifying thoughts to the back of her mind, slammed the door on them tight. Tried to focus outside herself. Thought about Connor—what had it been like to have to operate on a family member?

  A family member. Jillian thought of the others who had been in the operating room, and realized she wasn’t the only one scared to death.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  His hand on the white wolf’s broad forehead, Connor’s eyes were closed. He sat perfectly still as if listening. Long minutes passed before he finally looked up. “I can’t reach him. I’ve tried and tried since this happened, but I can’t seem to connect with him.”

  At Jillian’s puzzled expression, Birkie leaned over and whispered, “Telepathy, dear. Most Changelings can talk to each other in their minds.”

  “Of course they can.” Jillian felt as if she’d just slipped a few notches further down the proverbial rabbit hole. Can they fly, too?

  Connor continued. “James may need help finding his way back to us. If you talk to him, it could help.”

  “You mean he’s in a coma?”

  “Not in human terms. He’s not only inside the wolf’s body, but he could be locked in the wolf persona as well,” said Connor. “For all intents and purposes, he is a wolf. And James needs to be reminded he’s human. It’s the human side we need to connect with. He’ll listen to you. You’ve got a powerful connection to both the wolf and the man.”

  “What do I say?”

  “Anything at all,” Birkie explained. “The sound of your voice might give him something to latch onto. Like a lifeline.”

  “And then he’ll wake up? Will he be himself, I mean, will he be human then?”

  “No. But just waking up would be a hell of a lot of progress,” said Connor. He looked like he was about to say more, but shook his head and abruptly left the room.

  Birkie hugged Jillian. “I imagine you’d like a little time to yourself, honey. We’ve dumped a lot of information on you. I’ll bring you some lunch in a while, answer more questions if you have them. I imagine you’ll have a lot. Are you okay for now?”

  “Yeah, I’m mostly fine. Thanks.” She put on a brave face, managed a smile even as emotions surged through her. But as soon as Birkie left, the tears began to fall and this time she didn’t try to stop them. Some were out of relief, and some were out of fear. Eventually they slowed enough to let her find her voice. “They tell me you’re in there somewhere, James,” she said to the wolf, stroking its ears, its face. “I’m scared to believe it and scared because I am believing it. I need you to come back to me and help me understand it all. I’m pretty lousy at asking for help, James, but I’m asking now. Come back to me and help me sort this out, because I’m worried I’ve gone crazy. I’m scared the concussion has hurt something in my head and I’m delusional. Or maybe being pregnant has affected my brain.” The tears started again, and she knotted her hand in the wolf’s thick mane, held onto it as if she was dangling from a cliff and it was the only thing left to hang onto.

  “What I’m most afraid of is that you’re gone. You know I love you, James, but you don’t know how much. I didn’t know how much. And I’m so scared it’s too late and I won’t get to tell you face-to-face just how much you mean to me. I really want to build that life with you. Come back to me.”

  Deep within the wolf, a faint awareness stirred. James struggled against the thick gray haze that seemed to blanket his mind. Pain was on the other side of the fog, searingly bright, waiting to stab at him. And he was tired, more tired than he’d ever thought possible. Exhaustion pressed down on him like a we
ight. A stray thought surfaced that he must be still alive. Surely he couldn’t be this damn tired if he was dead.

  Someone was talking to him. A woman. He should know her, she was important. Green eyes. He knew she had green eyes, so he should know who she was, shouldn’t he? He worried at the puzzle for a few moments, then let it be. Just listened to the soothing, pleasant voice, felt it stroke his mind with familiar fingers. Listened until the dull waves of oblivion began to pull him under again.

  No. He couldn’t let himself fade out, he had to find this woman. Somehow, everything would be all right if he could just find her . . . if he could just find. . . . Jillian! I’ve got to get to Jillian!

  Memories flooded back like an inrushing tide. James had been in the clinic’s lunchroom, putting together a meal for two. He’d had his head in the fridge when the most god-awful fear had gripped him by the throat. Fear for her. He raced for the apartment but she wasn’t there, wasn’t anywhere. The sense of danger screamed along every nerve he had; the wolf within snapped and snarled. The wolf will know where she is. It always knows where she is. Instantly he’d called the Change, given the wolf its head. And the wolf had wheeled and raced for the back door with all the power and speed at its command, hurled itself through the narrow window in an explosion of metal and glass.

  He’d barely touched the pavement when James caught sight of the gun trained on the woman he loved. His heart stuttered for a single beat. And then he bounded across the heated pavement, leapt with bared fangs. . . .

  Then what? He wasn’t quite sure what happened after that. He’d been injured, probably shot, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he must have been in time, James and his wolf together, they must have been in time to save Jillian. She was alive, he could hear her, sense her, feel her, right here next to him. She was all right. And the child within her, his child, must be all right too. Safe. All safe. James relaxed into the wonder of it, his heart satisfied, peaceful. He focused contentedly on Jillian’s voice, listened to her words.