“I called O’Neill. Perhaps he can tell us what is happening.” Although the warrior had not appeared to know anything when Wolf had spoken to him earlier of Jillian’s spirit claiming. But with noTaounahato seek wisdom from, their options were limited to one source. O’Neill.
His mother frowned. “O’Neill? Hisheschrmalclaiming was truth, then? Not a tale meant to impress?”
Wolf shrugged. “He has not spoken of hisheschrmalclaiming. But Benioko told me it was true.”
“If this is true, maybe O’Neill will have answers to what gift Jillian carries, and what the elder gods expect of her.” Acrimony flared in her eyes. “Goddess knows yourjavaaneehas been no help.”
He could not fault her annoyance. She was not wrong.
Wolf walked around the table and took a seat opposite Jillian, placing his cell phone on the table before him. Her head was down, her hair falling forward, concealing her face.
“Jillian,” he called softly, surprised when her head lifted.
Her quiet gaze found his. The hollowness of her face and eye sockets were not new. But there was an intensity to the brown eyes that had not been there four days before.
“Jillian,” he said quietly. “There was aheschrmal—a mountain lion—in your bed last night. Are you aware of this?” She could have slept through the visit.
She nodded, absently reaching for the cup of coffee steaming in front of her. “The Screaming Mother.”
The Screaming Mother?
Wolf glanced at hisanistaaas she pulled out a chair to his left, then turned back to his shadowle'ven'a.Although that description fit her less these days. Her mental shadows appeared to be dispersing. “Is this the same Screaming Mother who told you to come to base?”
After a nod and sip of coffee, Jillian held his gaze. “She says we are needed here. She says we must stay.”
Wolf thought about that. “The Screaming Mother, is she yourheschrmal?The one who slept with you last night?”
Jillian nodded and sat there, watching him before turning to Wolf’sanistaa.“I’m hungry. Can I go to the cafeteria?”
Wolf sat still, processing what she’d said. She called her spirit guide the Screaming Mother. How strange. While the lion was known for its piercing shriek, spirit animals did not have offspring. Did they?
Vaguely he heard his mother responding to the request for food.
“I’ll call, have them send something up for you. What do you want?”
“Waffles.”
Waffles?
For some reason, the request snapped him out of his stupor. It seemed so...ordinary...for a woman who’d spent the night cuddling with a powerful animal spirit. When his phone rang, he reached for it, grateful for the distraction.
“You called?” O’Neill asked as soon as Wolf answered the call.
“I have need of your assistance.”
Silence, then. “Great.” Followed by “What the hell’s gone wrong now?”
The question was understandable.
“The assistance concerns Jillian and herheschrmal.”
More silence and then. “Can it wait? I’ve got plans.”
This would peak O’Neill’s interest. “Jillian’sheschrmalspent last night with her. In bed. Cuddling.
This time, the silence trolling the line felt different, less annoyed, more curious. “Fine. But I’ve only got an hour. I’m meeting Gracie at eleven.”
“Come to quarters fourteen, in interim lodging.
