Changeling Dream

by Dani Harper

  “—please come back to me, James. I miss you and I’m so confused. They tell me you’re in there somewhere but I can’t feel you. I need you to come back and explain all this to me, make it make sense—”

  Wait! I’m right here. He had never heard Jillian sound so lost, so sad. Not since the wolf had found her on the trail all those years ago. With a start, James realized he was in wolf form now too. He shouldn’t be, he should have Changed—unless he couldn’t. Just how bad am I hurt? He turned inward then, felt carefully along the edges of his awareness where gray fog hid the bright lines of pain. Followed those lines to their source and discovered his shoulder to be all but missing. Again? Good Christ, it had taken months to recover last time and this wound felt even worse. But he hadn’t been trying then, couldn’t have cared less if he lived or died last time. Now, he not only wanted to heal, he wanted to be human again. He had to get to Jillian, had to reach her, talk to her. Hold her. Especially hold her. But there would be no Changing with this kind of injury. A Changeling had considerable regenerative powers, but they could be accessed only in wolfen form. Not only that, his lupine side would not permit him to Change. Period. The wolf was devoted to James’s survival and all energy would be funneled into healing.

  Meanwhile, Jillian needed him, and here he was lying down on the job.

  Not for long, he decided. If the only way he could comfort the woman he loved was by licking her face and wagging his tail, he was damn well going to do that much. Slowly, tentatively, James began the long agonizing climb through the haze toward consciousness.

  The full moon silvered the rocks on Elk Point, touched the tips of the trees with sterling. Not to be outdone, the stars blazed overhead in a deep velvet blue canopy. Jillian wrapped her arms around her knees and allowed herself, just for a moment, to forget everything except the vivid beauty of the night. She drank it, breathed it, drew it into her lungs as if she couldn’t get enough, drew it into her soul. There was a harmony here that spoke to her deeply, that she had missed in the past few years in the eastern city. Missed without even knowing what it was she was missing. The work at the clinic fed her mind. The northern countryside was unexpectedly feeding her spirit, comforting it.

  Coming here seemed to be good for the white wolf too. She looked down at the magnificent animal stretched out on a rock beside her, his snowy coat glowing in the moonlight. James. James is in there. She reminded herself of that often, although her wolf still felt like, well, a wolf. The massive creature might have eyes that were the same shade of Viking blue as James’s eyes—but she couldn’t see James behind them. Her throat tightened with grief even though James wasn’t dead. At least, everyone said he wasn’t dead, that he was right there inside the wolf. But she couldn’t feel him there.

  Blue eyes looked up at her, and the wolf nudged her arm with its nose. Jillian complied, putting an arm around his neck so he could lay his massive head in her lap. There won’t be much room for that soon. She wondered if the wolf knew about the baby. She wondered if James remembered the baby, or her, or anything at all. Was he thinking as a wolf or as a man?

  I should be grateful he’s alive at all. I should just be glad for that. After surgery, it had been four whole days before the wolf awakened. Four long, terrible days when she didn’t know if he would live or die, if she would lose both her beloved wolf and the man she loved. She had watched over him, night and day. And on the fifth day, she had awakened to a large pink tongue licking her face.

  Things had been better then. She talked to the wolf endlessly as she cared for him, although she still couldn’t think of him as James. The handsome creature seemed to pay attention to every word, was even more affectionate than before. Sometimes she heard its voice in her mind, reassuring her that she wasn’t alone. But it was never more than a few stunted words, it wasn’t really James’s voice—did the wolf have its own personality, separate from the man?—and it didn’t diminish the pain of missing James. She still felt a great calm when she was near the wolf, but there was sadness underneath, an ache that never went away no matter how hard she fought it.

  While he could offer no guesses as to when her James might return, Connor had been right about the incredible regenerative powers of Changelings. The white wolf’s shoulder was largely intact now, healed from the inside out. The gaping wound had closed over recently, but not before Jillian saw that fresh bone and joint and tendon had replaced the broken and the missing.

  Exercise was the best medicine then. Small amounts at first, slow circles around the clinic before and after closing time, until the injured leg would bear the creature’s weight. Then longer walks outside. Always at night of course. The presence of a giant white wolf at the North Star Animal Hospital would raise eyebrows if not alarms. Lately, as the wolf’s limp became less pronounced, Jillian had been driving out to the riverside trails below Elk Point. It was still a covert operation. The wolf hid under a blanket in the back of the truck, and they could go only at night. Occasionally Connor had accompanied them, sometimes Birkie. But most nights she preferred to walk alone with the white wolf. And every night she wished she was walking with James.

  She swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. This whole werewolf thing is really getting on my nerves. For a human being, she thought she’d been pretty damn patient, accepting of the impossible, understanding of the bizarre. She’d seen not just Connor but the other members of his family Change into wolves several times now, had met all the members of the Pack and gotten to know their stories. It had been fascinating at first, especially to a veterinarian. But right now she was just a woman who needed her man’s arms around her. And she had no idea when that would happen—or if.

  “Damn,” she sniffled. It was getting much too easy to feel sorry for herself. She pushed the sadness back, imagined packing it into a box and mailing it to Antarctica. It didn’t really work, nothing worked, but it distracted her a bit. After all, James wasn’t dead. He was alive somewhere, and she should be glad for that. She was determined to try to stay positive, both for herself and the baby. But it was harder every day.

  The wolf nudged her arm, sat up next to her, dwarfing her. She leaned against the thick soft fur, felt the wolf’s tongue on her forehead. He pushed her again with his nose, leapt down from the rock and trotted away. Perhaps he was getting a drink. The wolf was often restless lately, a good sign that he was recovering fully.

  Jillian watched the moon’s reflection glimmer in the river below. The night was warm and dry, and she considered sleeping right here in the circle of stones. She’d be warm enough next to the wolf, and certainly safe.

  Without warning, a blast of wind surged out of nowhere, whipped leaves around her, chilled her. She yanked the edges of her jacket together, but the icy current of air had already ceased. What on earth was that? Wind sheer? A micro burst?

  She glanced up at the stars and froze. One seemed to be moving, falling—and suddenly she realized it wasn’t a star at all, but a spark. A tiny blue spark. It drifted down and landed on the rock beside her, sizzled the edge of a dry leaf and winked out.

  “Jillian.”

  She whipped around to see James standing in the stone circle. Her heart caught in her throat and she began shaking. “Are you real?” she managed at last.

  In answer, he opened his arms and she ran to him.

  “You’re alive, oh God, you’re alive, you’re back, you’re here, omigod please tell me you’re really here,” she sobbed out as she was enfolded in the familiar strength, the heat. She breathed him in, smelled him, tasted him with frantic kisses, ran her hands over every part of him she could reach.

  His big hands were moving too, running over Jillian’s body, through her hair, cupping her face so he could cover it with kisses, thumb away the tears. “God, honey, don’t. It’s all right,” he murmured, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arms around her tightly, rocking her. “It’s all right now.”

  She couldn’t settle, couldn’t relax. Her entire body was alight
with raw, instinctive need and she struggled to get her hands under his shirt. “Just touch me, oh God, James, please touch me. I need you, I need—” Words failed as urgency overpowered her. She had to get to his skin, had to press her skin to his. Had to. Some primeval switch had been thrown, and she might die or implode if she didn’t get these damn clothes out of her way.

  The wildness infected him too. James’s lips became hungry on hers, and the offending clothes disappeared rapidly. Hands flew, his and hers, in frenzied need, to touch, to grasp, to glide over trembling flesh. Lips left hot trails of rapid, desperate kisses. Hearts beat with a primal need to be in one skin. They tumbled to their knees, still entwined around each other. He bore her backward and paused, about to thrust into her, and touched her belly with a question in his eyes.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered. Jillian gasped as he filled her, as he reared back and filled her again and again. Oh, yes. This was exactly what she wanted, what she craved. Yes, yes, yes . . .

  She clung to him with arms and legs, breathed his name into his mouth and rose to meet him. It felt so good, so damn good as his much larger body moved over hers, into hers. He overwhelmed her with heat and strength, yet she wanted it. Wanted him, heart and soul and body. All the worry and fear and loneliness of the past few months slid away as she called for him to bring her. They peaked together, and on the long, slow drift back to earth, she felt the world right itself.

  James stirred reluctantly and found himself facedown in the sand, half on Jillian, half off, but probably still too heavy for her. Sense rushed in then and quickly he raised himself on his elbows and looked at her. There were tears on her face.“Oh Christ, I’ve hurt you.” He sat up at once, scooped her into his lap, wiped the tears with his knuckles as he scanned her body frantically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough, it’s just . . . I just . . . and the baby. I was worried about the baby, but—”

  She put her fingers over his mouth. “Relax. The baby’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “But—”

  “But I totally loved it. But I’m happy.” Her eyes were dreamy, delighted as she looked at him. “You didn’t hurt me, so quit with the sorries, okay? The doctor said that sex wouldn’t bother the baby in the least.”

  “Really?”

  “I promise. Here, check for yourself.” She pulled his big hand over her stomach, rested her hands over it. “See?”

  Her belly was sweetly rounded, just beginning to bloom. Had he lost more time than he thought? “Um, just how long have I been MIA?”

  “About three months or so.”

  Jesus. He hugged her to him then, kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry to have left you on your own for so long.”

  “If you say you’re sorry again, I’ll have to hit you. Yes, I missed you like crazy, I was scared and worried, and I had to take everyone’s word for it that you were still alive. And why was that? Because you saved my life. Because I needed you and you came. Don’t be sorry for that.” Her voice gentled then and she cupped his face with her hands. “We’ve both been through a lot. Let’s just focus on the now, okay? I just want to spend a lot of time enjoying you.”

  In answer, he kissed her long and deep and slow, rubbed her tummy in lazy circles—and froze.

  “What? What’s wrong now?”

  “Shhh—nothing. Here, move this way.” James sat up straighter, pulled her into the vee of his long legs with her back against him. Kissed her temple to distract her as he reached his hands around her, all senses alert. He sought a spot low on her belly, skimmed his hands back and forth over the warm skin like a caress. And suddenly there it was. Life. Carefully he sought to discern, to sense, to sort the shimmering vibrations he felt into—

  Two. James’s heart skipped a beat as he realized there were two. No mistake. The delicate sensations fluttered beneath his hands and in his mind like faery wings. Joy and wonder surged through him, and he began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny? Did the baby move? I didn’t feel anything.”

  James only laughed harder, the sound full and rich and deep, booming through the stone circle and echoing across the valley. That little frown appeared between Jillian’s brows and still he couldn’t stop the laughter. Finally, he flopped weakly back on the sand.

  Jillian found her sweater, blotted his face with the sleeve. “Are you okay? Are you done now?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” For God’s sake, he was practically wheezing. And his sides ached, but oh, it felt so good.

  “Are you going to let me in on the joke or was that just post-wolf hysterics?”

  “There’s no joke, honey. We’re gonna need two cribs.”

  She goggled. “What?”

  “Twins, we’re having twins.”

  “We are not.”

  “Trust me, there’s two in there.” He watched her struggle to come up with an argument, shook his head at her. “Sorry but Changelings can tell. Have you ever seen Connor use that fancy new ultrasound at the clinic?”

  “Of course I—well, I don’t see him do a lot of things,” she said defensively. “We’re both busy.” Her face changed suddenly and she grabbed his arms. “This isn’t some cute little way of telling me we’re having a litter, is it? How could I have been so dumb? The baby’s a Changeling isn’t it? I’ve been so worried about you that I didn’t even think—”

  He nearly burst out laughing again at the alarm on her face, but wisely decided to choke it back. “Twins don’t constitute a litter, honey.”

  She didn’t look reassured. “You think this is funny, but I’ve never seen any werewolf children. No one in your family has any kids except some sister I’ve never met.”

  “Carlene. In Wyoming,” he supplied. “She has three.”

  “Whatever. For all I know they’re all running around on four legs.”

  “Only when they want to. No, wait!” She was trying to move away from him, but he caught her and pulled her firmly back into his lap. “I’m sorry, I can see I’m not taking this seriously enough. You deserve a straight answer. My brothers and sisters and I are all Changelings but we started out like normal human children. Looked like them, acted like them, played and fought and laughed and cried like them. No pointed ears, no fangs, and no fur. No eating of raw meat. Definitely no tails.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “Really sure?”

  He waved a hand at the circle of stones around them. “Elk Point is a sacred place. I couldn’t tell a lie here even if I wanted to.”

  “The baby’s fine?”

  “Babies,” he corrected. “Yes, they’re just fine. In fact, they’re wonderful and so are you.”

  She placed her hands over his where they rested warm on her belly. Her fingers were trembling. “Oh God, James, it’s all so much. We’re going to have a family. We’re going to be parents. I’m going to be—”

  “My wife. And a brilliant partner at the North Star Animal Hospital. And the director of an innovative new wildlife rehabilitation center. And the most beautiful mother on the planet.” He moved his hands up to cup her breasts, nuzzled over her hair to plant kisses on the sensitive nape beneath. “You’re going to be busy, honey. I think we’d better do this again while we can still fit it on your calendar.”

  “Do what?” she laughed, although he could tell she knew.

  In answer he simply cradled her against him and sought her lips. And loved her slowly, sweetly, thoroughly.

  Epilogue

  The October day was a gem. Warm, bright sun and cool, pleasant air. Perfect, James thought, for the official opening of the Northern Lights Wildlife Center. He surveyed the crowd assembled in the middle of the new complex, noted the TV news crew and the dignitaries with no small sense of pride as Jillian Macleod stepped down off the podium amid a long clatter of applause. She’d been a bundle of nerves for days, rewriting her speech constantly. But when the time came, she’d set the speech aside and simply talked to the audie
nce about what animals meant to her, and how grateful she was to work with them. It was perfect. She was perfect.

  He shifted the toddler dozing on his shoulder, wondered if Culley still had her brother. Or maybe Devlin had stolen Hunter by now. There was fierce competition for the twins among James’s siblings, and he counted himself lucky to have gotten a turn to hold even one of his children. He planted a kiss on little Hailey’s forehead, breathed in the soft smell of her hair. The twins were almost two now and their very existence amazed him. He imagined he’d still feel that way when they were twenty.

  He lost sight of Jillian as the crowd milled about, inspecting the facility. Among them, he knew, were fellow veterinarians, zoo directors, and representatives from other wildlife centers across the continent. James couldn’t resist putting his Changeling senses to good use and listened in on bits of conversation, picked up their surprised and approving comments on his wife’s innovative design. He recognized plenty of local people as well, clients from the clinic, farmers and ranchers from the area. Jillian had gained quite a following.

  He saw Douglas Harrison, acknowledged him with a nod. After the arrest of Roderick, James had learned there were more victims than he knew—and realized Douglas was one of them. He’d asked Fitzpatrick to arrange a meeting. “I don’t imagine I can ever forgive what happened to Evelyn, but I do know it’s not your fault,” James had said to Douglas. “You were a kid, you weren’t responsible for what your father did. You couldn’t have stopped him either. I wish he hadn’t done it, but I wish just as much that you hadn’t seen it.” He’d left it at that. Fitz kept him updated, let him know that Douglas was doing well. Roderick on the other hand would be spending his remaining years in a psychiatric ward rather than prison. The man’s mental state had deteriorated rapidly when police unearthed Corena Harrison’s sad remains in the wooded area of his ranch.