Page 65 of Dream Weaver

“I need someone to get over to Claire’s school right now,” she begged over the phone.

Abby never panicked. But she sure sounded close.

“I’ll be about fifteen minutes late, but I need someone there until I arrive,” she said. “Just in case. Please…”

I had no idea what thatcasemight be, but it didn’t matter. If Claire needed something, I was there.

“I’m on my way,” I told Abby, running for the door.

The good news was, my mother had already left, so I could run out without a word of explanation.

The bad news was… Well, everything else.

The school was just off the main road and easy to find. Navigating release-time traffic was a little tricky, but most folks were leaving, so it wasn’t hard to find a parking spot. I slid out of my truck and hurried toward the entrance, a few steps behind a guy I assumed was picking up his kid.

As it turned out, I was right — and not in a good way.

A stout, no-nonsense woman waited at the top of the stairs with a couple of kids. She wasn’t wearing a badge, but her sensible suit andin chargeaura screamedprincipal.

The guy sauntered up the stairs and lifted his cowboy hat, all smooth and cocky.

“I’m here to pick up Claire.”

Claire cringed, making my bear growl. I flew right up the stairs, passing him.

Claire dashed over and latched on to my leg. “Cooper!”

“Heya, kiddo.” I leaned over to shield her. Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t good.

“Now, just a minute,” the guy and the principal barked at the same time.

I stuck a hand in the air to indicate no ill intent. The other hand, I kept around Claire, who pressed her face against my thigh, a ghost of the happy, trusting kid I knew.

“Who the hell are you?” the guy demanded.

The principal gave him a scathing look that said,Watch your tongue, young man.

“I’m Cooper Lundsven, ma’am,” I kept my eyes on the principal, refusing to acknowledge the guy.

Not just a guy. A wolf shifter,my bear warned, catching his scent.

“Claire’s mom is on the way,” I said, leaning down to echo that to Claire. “She’s on her way right now. Don’t worry,” I murmured, patting her back.

Her hands clutched my jeans. She was worried, all right.

A tiny nod was her only reply.

The principal checked a clipboard. “I don’t see you on the authorization list.”

“No, ma’am. I’m not. Claire’s mom just asked me to wait here until she arrives.”

“Well, I’m Claire’s father, and I’m here to pick her up,” the guy declared.

I nearly bared my teeth. Make that, my fangs. This jerk was Claire’s father?

Brown hair, cold blue eyes. The guy was tall and athletic, but he had that worn-out look that said his glory days had been at least a decade back.

“Name?” the principal demanded.

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