in the territory, new-shifter antics.
Vicki talked about her fifteen-year-old stepdaughter, Jamie. “The girl’s insane. She and a couple of her werecat friends are leaping around in the tops of trees. Jumping from branch to branch. Making what they call treeways.”
Darcy had escaped the Scythe compound using a path high in the trees. Margery pointed at her. “I bet the younglings are trying to imitate you.”
“Not me, uh-uh.” Darcy’s long black hair rippled with the vehement shake of her head.
“Yes, you.” Vicki snorted. “You’re the kiddies’ new role model, woman.”
Darcy frowned. “Tree trails aren’t safe, especially for clumsy new shifters.”
“No kidding. Last night, I was at the grocery when a mama hunted down Donal. Her pup had missed a branch and broken his arm.” Bree snickered. “You should have heard Donal fuming about suicidal cubs starting on new fads.”
“His language is even more inventive than my old drill sergeant’s.” Vicki grinned. “But he’s fucking good at healing.”
“You’re so lucky to have him. Even a skilled banfasa can’t do—” Recalling herself, Margery shut her mouth.
“Banfasa?” Vicki asked.
“Tynan said a banfasa is like a nurse practitioner and medic,” Bree explained.
“I only met the Dogwood banfasa once,” Darcy said. “She was Margery’s grandmother. People said Margery had been helping in the clinic since the day she learned to walk.”
Margery looked away. Grandmama had died in her clinic, fighting the Scythe.
“That’s why the human nurse practitioner in the Scythe compound grabbed Margery to be her assistant. And why the Scythe let her tend everyone after Phyllis was gone.” Darcy smiled at Margery. “Caring for people is in your blood.”
No, she wasn’t going to get caught in that trap again. “I’m even better at waitressing,” Margery said lightly. “It’s where I belong.”
Vicki eyed her.
Margery looked down at Sorcha. “Hmm. Smells like someone needs her diaper changed.”
“All of them, undoubtedly.” Vicki rose. “Bree, do you have a spot I can use?”
“Sure. C’mon.”
“I’ll help,” Darcy said. “If I get more cookies.”
Margery considered joining them, but if she was going to be running with this mentor person, she’d better rest her ankle. “Have fun. I’m going to take a nap right here, me and the salamanders.”
“You rest, then we’ll dump the pups on you when we come back.” Darcy picked up Sorcha and told the other two females, “Margery is a cubling tranquilizer.”
As their voices drifted away, Margery gave a sigh. The fire was warm, the blanket-mound unbelievably soft, and she had really worked hard at the diner.
She roused somewhat when little bodies were tucked in around her and cuddled them close before clouds of sleep engulfed her again.
Following his littermate into the Wildwood Lodge, Donal saw the females socializing around the fireplace. Not surprising. Breanne loved company and took any excuse to feed someone. In fact, the aroma of something sweet hung in the air.
Cookies? The day’s looking up.
Until he saw the black-haired, troublemaker named Darcy. He snarled. “You.”
She blinked, all innocence, although her lips quirked. “Me?”
“You’re a menace, you are. Trees are for perching and sunning, not for leaping around as if the Gods had made a freeway system in the canopy.”
“Sorry, Donal.” Her innocent look wouldn’t fool a pup, let alone a healer.
He growled under his breath.
Tynan had the temerity to chuckle. “Be warned, Darcy. He’s grumpier than a badger today.”
Even the Cosantir’s mate was grinning. Catching his glare, Vicki held up a hand. “We’re not heartless, Donal, really. But Tynan wouldn’t be laughing if someone had died.”
Bree, the sweetest of females, looked worried. “Did someone else get hurt?”
Donal sat beside her—the only nice one of the bunch. “I was the one who wanted to die.” He leaned back, letting the peace of the lodge ease his irritation. “The cub with a broken bone wasn’t a problem. Brave lad. But the next one… Idiot wolf pup. Lacking real claws, he slid all the way down the trunk and got scraped from chin to crotch. And he didn’t stop yelling, even after I’d healed every scratch. By Herne’s hairy balls, my ears are still ringing.”
The heartless females in the room gave him no sympathy. Even Breanne had her hand over her mouth and was chortling like a drunken pixie.
“Poor Donal.” Darcy grinned before asking, “Doesn’t Margery live next door to you? Next time you have a screamer, get her.”
Donal had no intention of opening that can of worms, but Tynan tilted his head. “Why’s that, Darcy?”
“She can calm nearly anyone down, especially cubs.” Darcy gestured toward a mass of blankets and pillows by the hearth.
After a second,