Read Online Howl of the Wolf by N.J. Walters - Free Book Online Page B

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    “This way,” Jules called. He was already through the door that led to his backroom.
    Butterflies lurched in her stomach. The backroom was like the doorway to a magical kingdom, the wardrobe into Narnia, the rabbit hole to Wonderland. She’d only been allowed back here a few times in her life and each time had been an adventure. There was stuff piled everywhere, and only Jules knew what it all was and where it was located. Nothing was listed on a computer. Everything was organized in Jules’ brain. He could put his hands on anything at a moment’s notice and tell you the provenance of the item.
    She halted in the doorway, a sudden fear descending on her. Her blood hummed and she knew, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that whatever Jules was about to show her would change her life forever. She tried to shake off the sensation but couldn’t. Her intuition was screaming at her, louder than it ever had.
    Sabrina gripped the doorframe. “Well, what is it?”
    Jules flicked on a light that illuminated a dark corner of the storage room. The gasp caught in her throat. She blinked, unable to believe her eyes. Her hand fell away from the doorjamb and her feet moved forward. Hand extended, she reached for the wolf.
    He was massive, much larger than any real wolf. And she knew in her heart the wolf had to be male. He was much too large to be a female.
    The wolf was magnificent. Primal. Elemental. There weren’t any other words that could describe him. His flanks seemed to ripple, as though he was caught in mid-stride. His mouth was open in a silent snarl, exposing razor-sharp fangs. This was no softened version of the wolf, but a depiction of him at his most primitive and powerful.
    “Where did you get him?” Sabrina was almost afraid to touch him. Afraid he wouldn’t be real.
    “This incredible creature was part of a carousel ride that belonged to the carnival. Guess the ride fell into disrepair over the years and they sold off the rest of the animals. All that was left was this guy.”
    Her fingers grazed the wolf’s flanks. She yanked her hand away, surprised at how the tips of her fingers tingled. For a brief second, he’d felt as though he was more flesh and bone than wood and paint.
    “Can you turn on another light?” She really wanted to have a better look at him. The dim light and the layer of dust covering him prevented her from seeing him very well.
    “This is as good as it gets. Almost all the lights blew this morning. It was the damndest thing.” Jules shrugged. “One of my cousin’s boys is an electrician and he’s coming in tomorrow to check things out.” He shrugged. “Old wiring probably needs replacing.”
    Oh well, it didn’t matter how well she could see the wolf, she knew she wanted him. “How much?” Not that it mattered. She had to have him, supposing she lived off rice and beans for the next five years.
    She glanced at Jules and found him scratching his head. “Don’t rightly know, Sabrina. Never had anything like him before.”
    “When has that ever stopped you?”
    Her wry reply made him laugh, and he grinned. “You got that right, little girl. But this time is different.”
    A shiver raced down her spine. She glanced at the wolf, unable to deny the wave of longing that went through her. She had to have him. He’d fit perfectly in the corner of her living room and could watch over her and protect her.
    The fanciful thought made her smile in spite of the ball of dread curling in her belly. The wolf was her guardian, her protector, and she had a permanent reminder inked on her back. Her tattoo tingled and she resisted the urge to touch it.
    “Different how?”
    Jules rubbed a hand over his short, graying hair. “I had a dream about your granny last night.”
    That caught her attention, and she reluctantly left the wolf and hurried to Jules. “What was it about?”
    Jules pulled out an eighteenth century English chair and sat. He motioned to her to do the same. The chair