Healing of the Wolf - Cherise Sinclair Page 0,80

after Donal.

Outside the tavern door, Oliver grabbed a backpack.

It looked heavy. “Did you carry that all the way from the Elder Village?”

“No, I traveled as a bear.”

“Ah.” She remembered his form—a medium-sized black bear, more cute than scary.

“The Elder Village sent the bag to Ailill Ridge for me. I picked it up there and begged a ride here.”

She tensed slightly. What had the people in Ailill Ridge said about her?

“Here we go.” Donal opened the passenger door for her. He ran his hand down her upper arm…and sent tingles chasing after his touch.

No, behave, Margery. Gathering night was over.

Oliver took the back seat. “When the grocery clerk at Ailill Ridge told me you were here, there were a couple of shifters listening and getting all pissed-off. Growling, even. What’s with that?”

Oh Gods, how could she explain?

Settling into the driver’s seat, Donal gave Margery a glance, then said smoothly, “No banfasa or healer will remain in a town where they’re not treated well. Margery is just the last one to walk away from that territory. Being idiots, they probably feel as if she abandoned them.”

“Got it.” Oliver snorted. “Sounds like it’s good you left, but, knowing you, you stayed until it was unbearable.”

“Pretty much, yes.” Margery still felt as if she’d abandoned people who needed her.

“If the town had disrespected Grandmama,” Oliver said, “she’d have left them with tattered ears and shortened tails.”

“Oh. You know, you’re right.” The ugly feeling of guilt lifted.

“I think I’d have liked your granddam,” Donal murmured.

Margery grinned. “I daresay. She was a cat, too, and like you, she was…” cantankerous, irritable, bristly. “Um, well, you’re a lot alike.”

Donal gave her an amused look.

After he parked the car in his driveway, Margery paused with her hand on the door. “Thank you for the ride, Donal.”

“You’re welcome, sweetling. I’ll tell you what I told Calum—get some sleep today.” Still in the driver’s seat, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch made her shiver with longing. “Come over tomorrow, though. I have a couple more shifters to add to your schedule.”

“I can come over now.”

“How did I know you’d say that?” he murmured. His gaze lingered on her lips, then with a sigh, he shook his head. “Tomorrow, banfasa.”

She slipped out of his car and reminded herself that a Gathering mating wasn’t a prelude to a romance; it was merely a sexy time under a full moon.

The full moon had set.

She and Donal would work together. And that was all.

The lack of sleep was catching up to Tynan. He yawned as he left the diner after downing a cup of coffee. He was on duty, patrolling Main Street, until Alec relieved him at noon.

He’d already broken up three brawls.

After a Gathering, there were always fights between those who’d succeeded in mating and the ones who’d lost out. Having five times more males than females meant some males weren’t chosen. Although females usually mated more than once, some males were chosen several times a night, some never.

And there were always those who were bad losers.

A shout and growls caught his attention, and he snorted. Looked like his brawl-count was rising to four.

He rounded the corner, and there they were, in front of BOOKS. Two males going at it with fists and kicks, battering at each other for all they were worth.

“Break it up,” he ordered loudly. When they ignored him, he yanked out his baton, expanded it, and whacked one idiot in the meaty part of his thigh hard enough to paralyze the muscle.

As that male staggered back, the other dumbass swung at Tynan.

Tynan whipped the baton around and caught the male’s upper arm. A baton was quite useful, really.

Separating, the combatants rubbed their injuries and cursed him in foul terms.

Seriously? “You’re standing on Main Street. Your mamas would have their paws over their ears if they heard you.”

One flushed.

The other had no shame—or sense. “You dickless dog.” He charged at Tynan. “I’m gonna—”

Tynan palmed the male’s face and shoved him back, then swung the baton. It thudded against ribs hard enough that the male dropped to his knees. The bones hadn’t broken, but would be sore for days.

“Nice job, Deputy.” Joe Thorson stood in the doorway of his bookstore. “Want help?”

“Got it handled, Joe, but thanks.” Tynan leveled a stern look at the two whimpering pups. He’d not seen them before. “In this territory, both the Cosantir and the law forbid fighting in town. Cubs shouldn’t see this kind of violence…or hear language like you

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