"I can imagine. Ever try a husky/wolf breed?"

Charles snorted. "These dogs love to pull a load and they love to please humans. Plus they get along with each other great. A wolf mix?" He shook his head. "Wolf blood made the wolfdogs skittish and aggressive with one another. But mostly, they like their freedom. Pulling a load for a human? Forget it." Charles took a deep breath. "What I wanted to talk to you about was the wolf that bit you. Normally, when a wolf like that bites someone, the pack takes the person in."

"A wolf pack?" Cameron wasn't following him.

"Has anyone talked to you about, well, ahem…" Charles looked back at his dogs and began stroking one of them on the head. "Has Kintail talked to you since you've been bitten?"

"I haven't met the man."

Charles looked up at Cameron. "Seeing the extent of damage to your parka and the fact no one's talked to you about what's happened, I'm assuming something else is going on."

"You mean that Kintail has trained wolves to attack certain people? Like attack dogs?"

Charles shook his head. "No, that's… not exactly what I'm trying to say. I'm Cree, if you were wondering. In ancient times, my people believed that when the aurora borealis danced across the night sky, magical or divine wolves came to earth. In many Native American cultures, wolves have been revered. Wolves take care of their packs, much as we take care of our families, our tribes. My people much admired wolves' superior hunting skills in cooperating with one another. And like the wolves, in ancient times, we would keep outsiders from invading our territory." Charles smiled as if he was remembering the stories passed on by his elders.

Then he sighed. "The Inuit tell the story of an old lady, abandoned, who became a wolf. The Navajo believed a man or woman who wore a wolf's skin would transform into the wolf. The Sioux believe the wolf has a powerful spirit. The Pawnee were often known as the Wolf People, who, like some other tribes, stored their magical tools in wolf skins. Unless I'm mistaken, one of these wolves has infected you."

In disbelief, Cameron raised his brows. "A magical wolf?" The wolf was big, but there wasn't anything magical about it. Just one mean-spirited beast, although the way Cameron healed so quickly was pretty bizarre.

"Have you… experienced any changes? Heightened senses? Or feel anything out of the ordinary, like cabin fever?"

Hell, that was what was making Cameron so antsy. His senses were on higher alert. Everything from seeing well in the low light of the barn before Charles turned on the lantern, to smelling the differences between the dogs. Normally, they would have all smelled like wet dog, period. But now, he noted subtle differences—one had rolled in something. And how he should know that beat him. Another's breath smelled bad, although the dog was not anywhere close to him. It was more than that though.

It seemed as though every gland associated with each hair follicle produced an individual odor signal that he could easily recognize. And pheromones that cast off a different smell—more of a form of communication— like when one of the bigger dogs, the alpha male, maneuvered closer to the food that was left. As soon as he did, the dog next to him lifted its nose, sniffed the air, and moved out of the bigger male's way.

Sounds were more pronounced also, now that he thought about it.

Charles eyed Cameron closely. "Do you feel any different?"

Yeah, although Cameron wasn't a runner, he had the worst urge to stretch out his legs and run for miles. Hiking, swimming, and skiing were more his style. "Nothing that can't be explained."

"Don't you have any… empathy for the wolf now? More so than you might have had before?"

"What I feel is irritation that anyone would stick up for a wild animal that bites people unprovoked."

Charles just shook his head.

Cameron took another tack, figuring that wolf lovers couldn't understand unless maybe one bit them. "So what is a magical wolf's bite supposed to do to me?"

Charles cleared his throat again. "Have you had any cravings to rip off your clothes and run like the wolf?"

Faith considered Leidolf Wildhaven as he stood in the entryway of the Eagle's Nest cabin, his amber eyes studying her just as much in return. "Uhm, no, I'm not lost. I'm looking for someone," she said.

"Ah. Did you knock? I didn't hear you."

"Yes." She had, although probably not hard enough, wearing her gloves, which had muffled the sound.

He wore a hint of a smile, as if he was saying he knew very well she was planning on searching his place without his permission. But then again, maybe she only thought so because she was feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry. I'm at the wrong place."

She started to step off the porch when Leidolf said, "Watch out for the Arctic wolves, young woman. They can be troublesome in these parts."

She turned around. "You've seen them? My friend got bitten by one. But the evidence of the bite marks are already gone. Do you know Lila Grayson? She owns the wolves. And Kintail Silverman, I guess. They run Back Country Tours."

"I'm Leidolf Wildhaven. And you are?"

"Sorry, Faith O'Malley." She walked back over and extended her hand.

He studied her way too closely, took a deep breath, and smiled a bit ominously, belatedly shaking her hand with a firm touch. "Your friend? The one who was bitten? Is he a very close friend?"

Closer than she would admit to a perfect stranger. "We just met."

"Ah. So you have separate cabins."

The statement was more of a question, but she treated it as a statement, and none of his business. "You didn't say if you knew Lila Grayson."

"No, I don't know of the woman or this Kintail. But I've seen their wolves. Your friend, where is he staying?"

She hesitated. Hell, she was lousy at lying. "He's at White Wolf Den."

"Appropriate. His name?" When she hesitated to say, Leidolf added, "I've been bitten by a wolf before, and maybe we can swap stories. Sometimes it helps to air our concerns with someone who has experienced the same… trauma."

Faith hadn't even considered that Cameron might have been traumatized by the attack and thought it was a great idea, warming up to Leidolf instantly. "Cameron MacPherson. I'm sure he'd love to talk to you."

"You said he was your friend, that he stayed at White Wolf Den, which means you were looking for someone else?"

"Yes. I thought maybe this was his cabin. But obvi ously not."

"He wouldn't happen to be Hilson Snowdon, would he?"

"Uh, yeah, do you know him?" From Portland? Friends? She hadn't known Hilson to have any friends in Portland. But it seemed like too much of a coincidence that they both were from there and now here, at the same time.

"I ran into him while he was pacing down by the lake. He seemed to be bothered by something. Didn't like it that I intruded on his privacy. Although from what I understand, he's the only other one here right now. So I assumed he was either Hilson or Cameron. And since White Wolf Den isn't occupied yet, or I should say until more recently, the one I met must have been Hilson."

"Dishwater blond hair? Amber eyes?"

"Yep. That would describe him. And irritated. I'm not sure he's in the mood for company. Would you like me to walk you back to your cabin? Or to the main lodge?"

"No, thank you. Is his place in this direction?"

"Next cabin over. Porcupine Cove. The other four places are under renovation. Or at least will be when the spring thaw comes."

"Have you seen three men in their late twenties, and a gray-haired older lady around? Or had any trouble with theft?"

Leidolf looked darkly amused that anyone might try to steal from him. "No. Why?"

"They were at the hot tub last night, but apparently they aren't staying here. And two guys stole our snowmobiles, then parked them behind the shower facilities."

"Sounds like pranksters to me. Using the facilities, but not belonging here."

"But in the storm last night? Where would they have been from?"

He seemed vaguely interested. "I don't know. But I'll keep an eye out for them. Are you sure you don't want me to escort you back to—"

"Thanks, but I've got to run." She hurried off the porch, not having any doubts about what she had to do next and not wanting to delay the inevitable.

"Be careful, young lady," Leidolf said, his voice a warning.

Something about the man seemed mysterious. She couldn't put a finger on what made her feel that way. Something inherently protective. Even though he seemed intrigued with her, he seemed just as willing to help out her "friend," Cameron. Which she so appreciated. She wasn't sure after the way Cameron had reacted to the fact that she'd had a recently ended relationship that she could call him a friend any longer, though.

And that bothered her a lot more than it should have for just having met the guy. But she felt some kind of connection with Cameron and… Well, hell, she was not willing to dwell on that issue, because once she got the flash drive from Hilson, she could just pack her bags and go, and get her life back together where she belonged.

She thought about something more that Leidolf had said. Hilson was pacing and agitated. Why? Had he learned she had followed him here? Or had he tried to sell her father's research and hadn't been paid?

She couldn't imagine he would want to use the research for himself, no matter what it was about. He was a stock broker, although because of the stock market, he'd lost a lot of money recently. Enough to make him want to steal her father's work for a tidy sum? She hadn't thought about that.

Plowing through the fresh snow and getting way too much of it into her boots, she noted that no one had walked anywhere in this area since the blizzard had subsided. Everything was perfectly pristine. Which meant Hilson should be home and hadn't ventured out. Or he left during the blizzard or before it began. She should have asked when Leidolf had seen him last.