the trees. From the rustles, Owen was almost here. I’d have to stop talking to Pru soon.
I went to New Bergin.
Wolves didn’t usually wander that far. They had a territory and they stuck to it. Of course, Pru wasn’t your average wolf.
“Why?”
He shot at me before he knew.
I opened my mouth to ask “He who?” or maybe “Knew what?” but she kept going.
Just grazed my flank. Burned like fire, but it proved I wasn’t … She panted several times very fast.
“Wasn’t what?”
Dangerous? Rabid? How could a bullet prove that? How could a bullet “prove” anything?
I thought it was healed, but—
Pru’s rear leg jogged as if she were running in place, and I caught a whiff of something foul. I set my hand lightly on her flank, and she whimpered. A section of fur was damp, a little oily. I pushed it to the side.
“This is infected.”
Pru didn’t answer. She’d passed out. Which was all to the good. It allowed me to probe what did not look anything like a graze.
“That’s a bullet hole.”
“Since we heard a gunshot”—Owen emerged from the trees—“that makes sense, though why is she unconscious from a bullet to the butt?”
“This isn’t fresh, and it’s festering.” I needed to get her to the clinic where I had antibiotics and alcohol and anesthetic and other great things that didn’t start with A. I started to slide my arms beneath her.
“Whoa.” Owen set a hand on my shoulder. “That’s a wolf.”
“No moss on you.”
“You can’t take a wild animal into your clinic.”
“Can. Will. Am.” I didn’t mention that she’d already been there.
“What if she wakes up while you’re walking to the truck? Or in the truck? Did you ever see that YouTube video of the guy who put what he thought was a dead deer in his backseat?”
I had. It wasn’t as funny as everyone seemed to think it was.
“I’ll put her in the truck bed,” I said. “Then sit back there with her.” All I’d need would be for her to regain consciousness, jump out, and disappear into the forest. She’d die. I couldn’t, wouldn’t let that happen. She’d saved my life.
“What if she wakes up on the way to the truck and eats my face?”
“Your face?”
Owen scooped up the unconscious wolf and started back the way we’d come. “You don’t think I’m going to let her eat your face, do you?”
* * *
Twenty minutes later Owen parked the truck in my lot then carried a still unconscious Pru inside. Reggie padded behind him as if Pru were a long-lost friend. I had to wonder what had taken place out in those woods and changed things.
The crime scene tape cordoned off the stairs to my apartment, but my clinic was clear. I motioned for Owen to set the wolf on the exam table as I washed my hands, then started to assemble what I’d need, moving past the As and into the wonderful world of S—scalpel, scissors, sutures. Med school Sesame Street.
“You need help?” Joaquin stood in the doorway.
“Thought I told you to go to school.”
“Did.” He stepped inside. “Done.” I narrowed my eyes, and he held up one hand. “Swear.”
“Scrub in.”
Reggie whined and set his front paws on the operating table, then licked Pru’s chin. A stainless steel bowl fell off the counter, clattering against the floor as loudly as an alarm clock. Owen jumped, then squatted, hunching his shoulders and lowering his head as if to avoid a projectile.
“Sorry!” Had I shifted the bowl too close to the edge when I was grabbing supplies? I could swear I’d actually moved it farther back to avoid just this problem.
My next thought was “Henry” though I couldn’t figure out why Pru’s ghostly cohort would toss a steel bowl.
Owen lifted his head, then straightened. “Sudden noises.” He gave a sheepish shrug.
Reggie kept his gaze on the shiny silver bowl in the corner as if he expected it to fly through the air and smack him in the head.
“You’re gonna need to get him out of here,” I said. “And you told your mom’s caseworker you’d meet her at the police station.”
Owen had made the call as soon as the truck hit the highway and cell service resumed. I was impressed he’d remembered. My mind was befuddled enough with the sex, let alone the unconscious wolf in my lap.
“Your mom’s in jail?” Joaquin appeared at my side.
“Kind of.”
“What did she do?”
“What didn’t she?” Owen hooked a lead to Reggie’s collar and practically dragged him out the door.