Nightshifter

Dillon pulled a pure caveman move and slid between Chloe and me, blocking my view.
“Dillon, don’t be an idiot.” Chloe put a hand on his arm as she stepped around the dark-featured Sasquatch. Oh, man. I’d always been a sucker for a beautiful smile. As I shook her hand, Dillon rumbled, a sound almost more animal than human, and my crazy dog echoed it, even as she leaned into my leg.
“Keen!” Again, she rolled an eye at me and subsided with reluctance.
“It’s okay,” Chloe said, crouching in front of Keen. “She doesn’t know us.” She extended a hand, keeping it below the level of Keen’s nose. My suspicious friend stretched out to sniff it, and her tail gave a cautious wag.
When Dillon reached to pull Chloe to her feet, however, the brief truce ended. Keen barked at him, and I’d had enough. I grabbed her by the collar and put her out the door.
Keen whined and scrabbled, but I ignored her. “Sorry about that,” I said to Peter. “I don’t know what’s got into her.” I didn’t look at Dillon.
Peter’s brows lowered. Keen had known him since she was a puppy. “I know what’ll help.” He opened a cupboard and emerged with not one, but two giant cookies.
I hadn’t meant to add to his troubles. “I should go,” I said, but he slipped by me and through the door, pushing Keen efficiently back with his knee and closing it behind them.
“Do you want tea?” Chloe asked while Dillon retreated to the table, where he sat, glowering at me.
Now that I knew Peter was okay, my symptoms reappeared with a vengeance. “No, thanks. I should get back to bed.”
Chloe’s gaze dropped to my bandaged arm and I noticed a muscle jump in her jaw. “Peter said you’re a vet. Did a dog bite you?”
“I was bitten all right, but not by a dog.” I rubbed my arm, wondering what to tell her, and deciding on the truth. “A wolf tried to eat Keen last night, and I got between them.”
“Wolf?” Dillon said, frowning. “A wolf bit you? No wolves around here. Probably a big dog.”
“I’m a vet. I know the difference.” But even as I said the words, I wondered. Something about what I’d seen didn’t fit the wolf profile. Like, maybe that it attacked your dog while you stood a few feet away? I’d never heard of the big canids being that brazen. There was also the little matter of dismembered bison . . . could it be dogs? At the time, I’d been blown away by the power of the predator—or predators—but maybe my imagination had been running on overtime. What had come at me last night had seemed huge, much bigger than a wolf or dog, but it had been dark.
My head spun with the effort of connecting the dots on this particular mystery. I emerged from my thoughts to see them staring at me like I’d sprouted horns. Chloe licked her lips and glanced at Dillon, whose gaze remained fixed on me. Hostility radiated from him.
Man, if he’s worried about me around her, how does he function in public? How is he not rotting in prison for killing some tourist who asks her for directions?
My head pounded and my warm bed beckoned. I groped for the threads of the conversation—wolves, right. “That’s what I get for being out in the middle of the night. Wolves are back in the area, just didn’t expect to run into any.”
“How badly were you hurt?” Chloe asked.
“Not bad. More of a deep scratch than anything.”
“Sure it was a bite?” Dillon spaced each word deliberately, as though he were speaking to a child.
Okay, this conversation is getting weirder by the minute. I gave the question a moment’s thought, remembering the snapping jaws coming at me. The front paws had been right there, too. “I think it was a glancing bite, but it could have been claws. I stitched myself up, though, and it’s healing well. No biggie.”
Chloe leaned back on the kitchen table, her face pale. I took a step toward her, but Dillon rose to intercept, pushing into my space—his dark eyes inches from my own. I pushed right back into him. I don’t know what got into me; I was so not the confrontational type. At least, not for years. I didn’t want to go back there now.
As though from down a long tunnel, Peter growled, “Dillon. Liam’s a friend. You’ll treat him with respect.”
I hadn’t heard him return. He stepped past me to push the hulk away, breaking our gridlock.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Peter’s eyes were locked on Dillon, and the big man retreated another step, his jaw clenching.
When Dillon’s glare returned to me, I again sensed something within me respond. I decided I had better get myself out of Peter’s house and back to bed before my inner Neanderthal got me into more trouble.
When I turned to go, Chloe escorted me to the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dillon move to follow but Peter put an arm out to stop him.
What is with that guy?
“I think this is yours,” Chloe said, reaching behind the door.
I knew Peter kept a baseball bat there—he claimed it would fend off burglars, although I had my doubts—so it surprised me when she held out my walking stick, made of solid polished maple, with animals I’d carved into the surface. I balanced it in one hand, my gaze tracing the familiar contours. “I dropped this last night. Where did you find it?”
Chloe transfixed me with another smile. “On the path, this morning.”
A threatening rumble came from the mountain looming behind her, and her smile faltered. “It was nice to meet you,” she said.
Her eyes had darkened, and she avoided mine. Why did me getting bitten by a wolf seem to cause them so much angst? I’m okay, so is Keen, so what’s the big deal? Maybe it’s all my imagination. I have one hell of a fever.
“Just