Wolf Dreams Read online

  Of course it was. I’d gotten myself in way over my head. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t even notice the arrival of a woman—short and curvy, definitely as pretty as Justine albeit in a more wholesome manner—until her hand fell onto my arm.

  “Right this way, Dr. Hart. Or can I call you Olivia? Of course I can call you Olivia. And you can call me Val. Claw told me all about you.”

  She stooped to gather up the cat fang, her finger catching in the spot where a door had once filled out the back of the artifact. “You found the bug, huh? The guys were pissed when it stopped transmitting. Not that they got much information beforehand. I don’t see how you handle spending so much time alone.”

  Alone? The monster grumbled her displeasure. What am I? Spinach stuck between your teeth?

  But it wasn’t my subconscious’s commentary that made me stumble, nor was it the way Val’s bubbly words hit me like a smack in the face. The plane was moving beneath us. Was accelerating down the runway.

  “Wait,” I protested even though this woman, whoever she was, had no apparent way to halt the plane’s movement.

  Claw could however. I felt his presence before I saw him. Turned just in time to see Val lean over to grab his arm.

  “Tonight,” she demanded, head tilting while eyes twinkled. “You, me, Twilight. I’m going to convert you to Team Jacob if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “Edward gave Bella choices and tore out his own heart to save her,” Claw rebutted, the faintest smile crinkling up the corners of his eyes.

  As if spurred by their shared affection, an image flashed through my mind. Claw and Val curled together beneath rumpled bedding, his bulk dwarfing her smaller form. Her sparkling blue eyes would hold their own, though. How could I have ever thought Claw and I might be a match?

  The monster growled wordless displeasure inside me and I abruptly found it difficult to breathe. Meanwhile, Val released Claw as quickly as she’d grabbed him. “Gotta get back into the cockpit and do my job,” she told her boyfriend. “Arrivederci.”

  Then she skipped away down the aisle. And I lost track of the fact the plane was moving, forgot to argue that I had places to be that weren’t here on Air Force One. Instead, all I could focus on was the man who stared so intently it was almost as if he wanted to eat me up.

  “Sit,” he suggested, drawing me deeper into the airplane. His legs were longer than mine, so I had to half-run to keep up with him. Adena fluttered to catch her balance on my shoulder as I lurched from side to side.

  We slid into a set of facing seats, softer and roomier than those found in any commercial aircraft. Claw settled in opposite me, his knees so close their heat warmed my skin.

  But he didn’t reach across the table and touch me. Didn’t give any further indication that he found my presence intriguing, in fact. Instead, the moment his butt hit the fabric, the mind games began.

  “YOU LIED TO ME,” CLAW accused, pulling a phone out of his back pocket and flipping through images before sliding the device toward me. I picked it up...and immediately let it clatter back to the table, my fingers unable to hold onto the phone as a horrific image burned its way into my mind.

  Blood and gore and something that resembled dog foot prints. Was this Claw’s way of telling me students really had died in an animal attack?

  “Breathe.” Warm masculine arms enfolded as much of me as they could reach from the other side of the table. My head came to rest on a shoulder that was as hard as a rock but more comforting by far.

  “Who is that?” I choked out when I was finally able to speak again. Pushing away from Claw with an effort, I sank back into my seat

  “Your predecessor.” Claw’s voice was staccato. “I thought you knew how Dr. Blackburn died.”

  I hadn’t. Now, I tried to remember if anyone had actually told me about his supposed heart attack or if I’d just filled in the blanks with statistical supposition. Memory was a fickle thing. I couldn’t quite decide where my understanding of the situation had run off the rails.

  Never mind where I’d developed such an off-base assumption, Claw was now setting me straight. “Blackburn died months ago,” he continued, hands still clenching my forearms. For some reason, the gesture felt like support rather than restraint. “This is old news to everyone, apparently. Except you and me.”

  I still couldn’t speak, the horror of the image pushing bile up my throat every time I considered prying my lips apart. So I shook my head rather than answering, accepted the reprieve as my brain started piecing together events from the past.

  Had the police case into Blackburn’s murder been closed a week ago? Was that what triggered the deposit of the deceased’s gear in my office and Claw’s interest in me?

  I only realized I’d spoken when Claw nodded. “Something like that.” He released my arms, the loss of contact chilling me. But the small, gray object he pulled from one pocket to place on the table between us reawakened my interest in the wider world.

  The statue was both unexpected and riveting. A small stone animal, carved with such care that I could tell it represented a dire wolf instead of the more lithe modern grays. “May I?” I asked, then picked it up without waiting for an answer. The wolf was heavier than I’d expected, resisting my efforts to raise it up to eye level. “Where did it come from?” I asked absently as I turned it around to explore every angle.

  “Blackburn’s home,” Claw answered succinctly. “It was...diverted...when the rest of his professional materials were dealt with. It turned back up last week when a member of the cleanup crew realized it might help the President.”

  The President again. That part of the puzzle would have to wait for later. Because the artifact’s modern path into my possession was less engrossing than what this miniature wolf represented in the scientific realm.

  A dire wolf carved by human fingers! This was either a Paleolithic creation or an extremely impressive fake. There was only one small problem—the animal represented was North American rather than hailing from Europe where this sort of ornament had traditionally been carved.

  I shivered, wanting to believe the impossible. Still, it was better to test for authenticity than to be hoodwinked by wishful thought. So I spat on my finger and streaked it across the bottom of the stone, trying to dislodge pigments used to artificially age fakes.

  Nothing came off, although the stone did warm marginally, as did the intensity of my regard. And while I pondered, Claw kept talking. “When we were given the cat-tooth necklace,” he continued, “this wolf figurine was hidden inside.”

  A DIRE-WOLF SCULPTURE inside a saber-tooth-cat fang? That unlikelihood supported the supposition that the wolf had been carved in North America. If so, archaeology might be on the brink of a tremendous step forward...assuming enthusiastic amateurs didn’t muck the evidence up.

  And I couldn’t help myself. My tone turned tart as I pulled my attention away from the stone statue with an effort. “You removed the wolf without worrying about scientific protocol then tucked a bug in there to replace it. Great work at obstructing the path of science.”

  Claw’s expression changed subtly, but I didn’t know him well enough to read his emotions. Thought, in fact, that I was faced with another anti-science advocate like my father.

  Rather than speaking further, I began mustering my arguments. Was Claw the type to be swayed by the anecdote about electricity doing the work of six hundred full-time servants in the average American household? Would he...?

  Claw interrupted my marshaling of mental forces by proving that assumptions are the antithesis of the wise. “Blackburn put it in there,” he explained shortly. “The carving in the tooth back is his work also. I’ve been assured such precision requires modern tools.”

  And...he was right. I sat back in my seat, the wind entirely taken out of my argumentative sails. I’d been too frustrated at finding a recording device inside what I’d mistakenly considered a courting gift to act like a scientist. But, of course, prehistoric people wouldn’t hav
e had the tools to carve out the tooth’s center in such a manner that a door could be perfectly slotted back in.

  “Why would Blackburn do that?” I asked after a moment. “And where did he find the wolf in the first place?”

  “We’re not sure,” Claw answered. “I was hoping you could figure that out.”

  Chapter 11

  “Of course,” I started, only to let my words peter off as an agonizing bellow emanated from the end of the plane where the President had headed. A bellow...that rose into an undulating howl.

  Leave now, my monster ordered.

  At the same moment, Claw stood, barking orders into an intercom I hadn’t noticed clipped to his collar. “Get us down to the airstrip,” he told someone—the pilot? Then, pulling me out of my seat as if I weighed no more than a bag of groceries, he continued, “Jim Kelter needs me. You have to go now.”

  “What...?” I wasn’t particularly eloquent in the best of circumstances, even less so when my monster hovered behind my eyeballs trying to press her way out. It wasn’t just the sounds from the other end of the airplane that had set her off either. It was the scents that surrounded us. Like damp fur combined with unripe avocado. The combination set our teeth on edge.

  “You’re ill.” Dark brows lowered and Claw’s face clouded. For the first time in our acquaintance, he deigned to uplift the end of his sentence into a question. “Air sickness?”

  Behind his back, the plane filled with strange animalistic snarling. The scent grew stronger. The plane tilted as it came in to land.

  Worse, the monster grabbed at me with clawed fingers. Danger, she warned.

  “Yes, air sickness,” I managed to lie, barely able to hang on to command of my lips and palate in the face of the beast’s increasing franticness. “What else would it be?”

  Escape, the monster demanded, ignoring my efforts to act normal. And this time she managed to move my fingers, reaching toward the window in search of an absent latch.

  But we couldn’t escape when we were hundreds of feet above the earth’s surface inside a metal airplane. All we could do was beat our body against the solid window and look like fools.

  I struggled for control against the monster. Forced her to follow Claw down the aisle. Barely kept our feet as the plane taxied to a halt.

  The door opened, giving me the first deep breath I’d inhaled in several minutes. That was my car in the near distance. My car, and snow falling on the tarmac. In my addled state, it took several seconds to understand that we’d circled back around to the same spot.

  “We’ll finish this later,” Claw said, his words muted and distant. A protective vision was whisking through my consciousness, but the wolf statue bit into my palm and reminded me of my promise. I wasn’t going to lose this chance to take part in something with world-wide importance. I wouldn’t let the President down....

  Rather than waiting for an answer, Claw turned without another word to hurry back toward the President. His absence was like a cold breeze and, at the same time, a tremendous relief.

  A relief because I didn’t have to pretend any longer. Instead, listening to the trickle of running water in the cave woman’s underground chamber, I closed my eyes against impending darkness and eased myself down the first step exiting the plane.

  I made it all the way to the ground before a voice floated up behind me. “Are you alright?”

  That was Val. Competitor, my monster grumbled even as I waved off both voices and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. We’re stronger, the monster continued. We fight. We win.

  As much as I liked Claw, I wasn’t interested in competing for his affection. It was all I could do to keep my footing atop a dusting of snow that made the ground more treacherous than I’d expected.

  Plus, the world had narrowed down to a quarter of my field of vision. A hive of bees seemed to have relocated into my ears. This trance wasn’t going to give me much longer before it fully hit....

  In preparation, I dropped the wolf statue into my deepest coat pocket so I wouldn’t lose it, zipping the top closed with fingers that shook. I hadn’t heard the clang of Air Force One’s door shutting behind me, so I slung my body back around to face Claw’s girlfriend. “I’m fine. I’m thinking. You can go now.”

  Girlfriend. My monster latched onto the word and spat out a growl. In retaliation, I clenched my fingernails into my palm, using pain to keep myself from falling into a trance.

  “Will you come back this afternoon?” Val called after me. “The President really does need to talk to you....”

  Of course he did. Even through my fuzzyheadedness, I could see the similarities between myself and Jim Kelter. The man who had come across on television as unflappably calm and even-tempered was raging wordlessly behind me. Obvious conclusion? The President was dealing with the same undiagnosable malaise that I was. I could work around my disability with a flexible schedule and forced serenity, but a world leader couldn’t afford to be fainting at the drop of a hat.

  I still didn’t understand what a prehistoric wolf statue had to do with the matter. But, like my perfectionist student, I had great faith in the contents of articles and books. I’d dive into the research and find an answer. And, just maybe, the solution would help me as much as it did Jim Kelter.

  “Call me and I’ll come,” I promised, rattling off my phone number while feeling like I was talking around marbles. My monster tried to grab my tongue to tell Val that Claw was our possession. Wanted to stake our claim here and now....

  But I must have sounded at least vaguely normal because Val believed me. The door finally clicked shut as I stumbled over my thoughts and my feet, then the rumble of tires on asphalt promised Air Force One was preparing for liftoff.

  The trance’s call drowned out the roar of the airplane even as snow began falling harder. Why exactly had I parked so far away? Oh, right, because the airplane hadn’t been present when I pulled up.

  Just as I hadn’t been in this state before Claw entered my classroom. With the real world so watery and confusing, I could almost hear my father’s dry advice.

  “You look out for you, daughter. Everyone around you is doing the same.”

  “Sometimes it’s worth thinking of something larger than yourself, though,” I argued, then stumbled as Adena landed on my shoulder. “Right?” I finished.

  My absent father didn’t answer.

  Huh, how had the pavement ended up inches from my nose?

  Focus, the monster murmured. I tried but couldn’t quite remember the question I’d asked in the first place.

  Oh, right. Would I use my skills to help Jim Kelter?

  “Yes, of course, I’ll do it,” I mumbled to the empty airstrip. Then I lost myself to the dark.

  SOMETHING WARM AND wet swiped across my palm, pulling me out of a trance state that hadn’t included a vision. That’s what I hated about fighting the call of the cave woman—if I didn’t respond quickly enough, our connection was lost in translation and I didn’t even get to see the cave.

  I blinked open my eyelashes with difficulty, ice momentarily obstructing my view. Adena was cawing in the distance, the harsh sound full of agitation. She needed me.

  Rather than rising to help her, I caught my breath as I took in the footprint right in front of my nose.

  It was a dog track—of course it was merely a dog track. Made by a Saint Bernard or a Bull Mastiff maybe. Something huge and friendly enough to have licked my hand.

  The hand that had held a wolf sculpture before I dropped it into my pocket. I sent frozen fingers into the fabric-lined cavity, breathed out relief when I discovered the statue was still there.

  Well, of course it was still there. Just as these footprints had been made by a domesticated canine. It would be easy enough to refute the latter fancy with fact.

  To that end, I stumbled the rest of the way to my vehicle, hands trembling as they gathered up a tape measure and phone. Then I was back on the snowy tarmac, snapping shots intended to relinqu
ish my wolf fantasy into the void.

  The trouble was, the trail appeared wolf-like. Hind prints settling atop front prints, as if a narrow-chested wolf had walked through this Virginia airport rather than a barrel-chested dog. Was it possible that...?

  “What happened to you?”

  Suzy’s voice startled me out of the act of data collection. I hadn’t heard her drive up...but that was ordinary when in the throes of a mystery. The bigger question was—how had she even known I was here?

  Right, my supposedly overlookable calendar message. Trust the detail-oriented department secretary to not only find the hidden addendum prematurely but to also read my request for backup between the lines.

  Quickly, I snapped one last photo as Suzy’s sensible shoes landed two inches from the wolf track. Dog track. Whatever it was.

  “Just one second,” I murmured, dusting snow off the tape measure before reeling it back in. I was vaguely aware that my clothes and hair were also covered in snowflakes, more than had been present when I’d woken up. I must have lost only a second or two to the vision. Did that explain why the animal hadn’t followed the scent trail from hand to pocket of my coat?

  “It wasn’t looking for anything other than snacks,” I reminded myself, barely realizing I’d voiced the objection aloud.

  “You’re not making sense.” Warm, motherly fingers settled on my forehead. “You’re freezing. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

  “No.” Now she had my full attention. I probably shouldn’t have used Dad’s voice, though, because it knocked Suzy back one full step and scuffed up the rest of the nearby tracks.

  “Dr. Hart....”

  “Don’t start that,” I countered, keeping my voice more cordial this time. “Call me Olivia. Or Oblivia like the students do when I get into the flow and forget social niceties. Because that’s the only thing wrong with me right now.”

  After all, the side effects of the trance were quickly fading. And I’d collected all the data I needed to research a mystery that was much less important than the provenance of the sculpture in the pocket of my coat.