Protector Wolf. Linda O. Johnston
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it wouldn’t have prevented them from attacking that foolish human woman.
But at least he had been able to save her from harm.
And soon, tomorrow, when he had shifted back and was in human form, he would find an opportunity to chide her, and more.
To warn her never to put herself in such a situation again.
He was unlikely to be there the next time.
The other wolves had apparently had enough. They both issued loud warning growls back to him, then turned and loped back into the darkness of the forest behind them.
Good. He, too, returned to the darkness but in a different direction.
He wanted to get a better sense of these surroundings and where the wolves by blood might be—and whether these shifters might be in any danger.
Only later, when morning started to arrive, would he shift back.
* * *
She was out of the woods, so to speak, and onto the lawn constituting the park. Maya smiled, stopped walking and turned to look back at the dark woodlands she had just left.
The wolves were still there, somewhere. Hopefully, none of them had been injured by the others.
She had seen them, photographed them, and she was fine. More than fine.
Too bad she had no way of rewarding that one wolf who’d confronted the others and allowed her to get away. He surely had an agenda of his own that had nothing to do with her, but she still appreciated it.
With a sigh, she turned and started walking briskly back to where she’d parked. Good night, wolves, she thought as she got into her car.
There were some other cars on the road now. She even saw a few people exit a bar on the far side of the street, though not the one she’d visited before.
Had anyone else heard the wolves?
Did anyone else in this town really care?
Surely the answer was yes, at least those who’d come to her presentation or commented on it afterward, like that bartender she had met. What was his name? Lesterman?
Or maybe the other people who’d been there, the Sharans, and that lady, Ivy, who had seen a couple of wolves. They’d at least seemed interested.
And her new buddy Trev. He’d at least expressed some interest in wildlife at her talk. Had he heard the wolves from wherever he was? Did he give a damn?
Then there had been Ryan, and his friend Piers. They’d surely have been interested.
She’d thought she heard some human voices. Could it have been theirs? Were they also out here checking out those howls?
If so they’d surely left Rocky in one of their rooms. The dog might have been particularly at risk when wolves were around.
She parked behind the hotel and went inside.
She felt so happy and excited that she wished she could shout about her amazing evening to the world.
Or at least to people who might give a damn.
But it was way too late to call Ryan in case she had guessed wrong and he was in bed at this late hour. Nor could she call any of her colleagues at WHaM, since this area was on Pacific time and everyone else would be an hour or more later.
With a sigh, Maya made her way through the empty, dimly lit lobby and headed up to her room for the night.
And figured she wouldn’t sleep at all.
* * *
But she did sleep, though not at first.
Once she’d gotten into the antique-style bed in her hotel room, Maya had visualized those wolves once more. All three of them.
Were there more in the area? The return of wolves to various parts of the state of Washington had been slow and sparse, especially around here. Even so...
How many? Despite her duty to take census, she didn’t intentionally begin to count wolves, like sheep, but she knew there were more than three.
Finally, smiling to herself, she actually relaxed. And slept.
Still, when she woke, the same visions and questions captivated her mind.
Well, somehow she would find a way to use it all, to continue to inform locals who were otherwise unaware that wolves had returned to the area—and how wonderful it was. First thing, she would check her video to see how it looked, since she would show her results to as many people as she could.
And expound even more about wildlife—probably without revealing she’d put herself in danger.
But wouldn’t it be fun to let the world know she’d been saved by one of those wolves? Sure, but then she’d have to let everyone know that she’d felt threatened by the others.
Somehow, she finished showering and dressing and prepared to visit the local world again today.
She looked at her video, thrilled at what she’d captured, yet a bit uneasy that it did show the wild and potentially dangerous nature of those feral canines. But, heck, that was who and what they were. People could admire them as wildlife, stressing the wild part. She certainly did.
She didn’t exactly have a plan, but first thing would be to find somewhere to grab breakfast, hopefully someplace busy. Maybe she could start expounding on her latest lesson about the visiting wolves there.
She pulled on a nice blue shirt over jeans, then looked out her hotel room window. Sun shone between an irregular blanket of clouds. She looked down through the partial brightness toward the street, trying to recall what restaurants she’d seen in the area—and noticed that Ryan and Piers were out there walking Rocky on the Washington Inn’s narrow lawn next to the sidewalk.
Hey, no matter that she hadn’t reached them before. Now, they would be good targets for starting to tell her story about the night before. They’d at least be interested.
She put her camera into her purse and headed out the door. Not wanting to wait for the elevator, she walked the couple of flights of stairs down to the decorative lobby and hurried through it to the door, then outside and down the walkway to the sidewalk. She looked around and saw the men and dog still on the lawn but near the end of the block. She headed briskly in their direction, noting that a few other people milled around outside the charming structure, probably additional tourists who were staying there.
Now wasn’t a good time to stop and be friendly and talk up wildlife to strangers, she realized—despite how strongly the urge shoved at her.
Before she could get to Ryan, though, Trev exited a car parked at the curb and hurried up to her. “Good morning,” he said. “How are you today?” He aimed his geeky grin at her again, and she briefly smiled back at him. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt tucked into blue jeans.
“Okay,” she said. “Have a good day.” She turned away, ready to hurry off toward her goal.
“You, too. You know, I heard about your organization WHaM before. I saw online, on the WHaM website, that you were going to give a talk here, and that’s why I came to town.”
She stopped for a moment. “Then you don’t live in Fritts Corner?”
“No, but I wanted to hear you.”
“That’s very nice,” she said, meaning it. She’d have to tell her coworkers that the small mention they’d put up on the website was achieving what they wanted, at least a little—attracting people to learn more about them, and wildlife. “Then you care about wildlife?”
“I think about wildlife a lot,” he said.
“And did you hear the wolf howls last night?”
“I did, from my hotel room. They must have been pretty close to town.”
“You