Wolf Dreams. Karen Whiddon

dreams usually starred only the person whose life was about to end. This time she’d seen a man abducting a child. And more. Wild animals. A pack of them. Wolves.

      Oh, but the final variance…

      Feeling sick, she shook her head. Throwing back the thin cotton sheet, she got up. The cool ceramic tile beneath her bare feet grounded and calmed her somewhat, but her heart still raced.

      Though her visions were never wrong, this dream had to be a fluke. Lazlo’s presence didn’t add up. And then there was the sheer weirdness of what she’d seen. Even for someone like her, used to crazy dreams and visions, it was beyond belief. Because not only had she caused the death of a man she’d once thought she’d love forever, but she’d watched him become a wolf.

      Proof positive that this particular dream was wrong, she thought, trying to force herself not to trust her own visions, which up till now had been surefire. For once, what she’d seen would not come true.

      A werewolf. Right. Death dreams and curses were bad enough. Considering the possibility that werewolves might exist? If she let herself believe in something like that, she might as well admit herself to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation. Lazlo had always been a bit more reckless than the other boys, but a streak of wildness didn’t mean he was a…freak.

      The instant she thought the word, she chided herself. After all, many people here in town had called her the same or worse, just because of a little psychic ability. She’d learned the hard way never to judge others.

      Sniffing, she headed toward the shower, wondering what quirk of her mind had made her think of Lazlo Brennan. The last time she’d seen him, they’d been eighteen and high-school sweethearts, in love. Then he’d left her and Teslinko for the greener shores of America without even saying goodbye. He’d broken her heart.

      As she was eating breakfast, her phone rang. It was the Teslinko police chief, asking for her help. A child had gone missing; they suspected the four-year-old girl had been kidnapped. And they needed Erika’s help to find her.

      Erika’s stomach clenched. Of course. Her dreams never lied. Though this time, more than any other, she’d have given anything to be wrong.

      “Let’s go,” Lazlo said to his partner, his adrenaline already shifting into high gear as he headed for the door of the squad room. The heartbreaking—and crucial—task of talking to the parents of a victim was one peace officers dreaded. Most often, things were exactly as they seemed, with the parents frantic for the return of their child.

      Sometimes though, it was worse. Lazlo had worked one case where the father had turned out to be the monster who’d tortured and killed his son. Lazlo never wanted to work another like that.

      Catching up to him, Rok pointed out his unmarked department vehicle. “You should know that they’ve called in Erika Cenov to help.”

      Climbing into the car and starting to drive, Lazlo glanced at Rok in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

      “Yes. I wasn’t making that stuff up. Your old girlfriend is a psychic. The captain said she already had a dream. Maybe she can find little Katya Holson.”

      Lazlo let the remark about Erika being a psychic slide and concentrated on the child. Katya Holson. Age four.

      Numerous members of the Teslinko police department were already at work at the Holsons’. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off one side of the square clapboard house.

      A uniformed officer met them as they got out of the car. “Mr. and Mrs. Holson are waiting inside. Erika Cenov is with them.”

      Rok shot Lazlo an I told you so look and strode ahead. Lazlo followed, a bit more slowly.

      Erika. He’d never been able to exorcise her from his heart.

      He’d loved her once, with a passion so all-consuming it had terrified an eighteen-year-old still trying to come to terms with the fact that his girlfriend—and the woman his wolf had once foolishly considered his mate—was human rather than Pack.

      Something about Erika’s aura was different enough that when they’d first started dating he’d harbored the hope she might be a Halfling. But he’d soon learned her difference had nothing to do with any shifter blood—in hindsight, perhaps it had to do with her unexplored psychic potential, assuming he believed in that. Whatever the reason for her aura, Erika was human.

      When he’d realized that fact, Lazlo had kept it a secret, knowing his family’s prejudice against non-shifters would mean an end to his relationship with Erika if they found out she was human. But his father had ultimately discovered the truth. He’d gone ballistic.

      While numerous shifters married humans, his father had forbidden it. Right before Lazlo’s graduation, the head of the Brennan household had extracted a promise from his only son. Unwilling to disappoint the man who’d raised him as a single parent, Lazlo had given his word. To uphold the honor of his family, he would only marry a full-blood shifter. He would not be the one to dilute their long, unbroken line.

      Which meant, of course, that he could not have Erika. Unable to say goodbye to her, he’d simply left, going as far away as he could.

      He’d often wondered what had become of her, but he hadn’t planned on running into her in the middle of a crime scene. Or that she would be the police department’s official…psychic.

      Assuming he believed in such things—and as a shape-shifter he knew anything was possible—would Erika’s new abilities mean she’d be able to see into the deepest part of him and know the secret he’d kept from her all these years? Would she be horrified? He told himself it didn’t matter; his vow had ensured there could never be anything between them.

      No matter what his wolf wanted.