“Stay here. This might take a while.”
“Be well, Faelan of the flowers.”
I paused at the door, shooting a surprised glance over my shoulder at Gloam. How had he known my mother used to call me that? Still, I had no time to delve deeper, as I raced down the stairs to the panicked man pacing out front.
One look at his face, and I knew we didn’t have much time.
Or maybe it was already too late.
CHAPTER TWO
Faelan
“What happened?” I was already unlocking the door and pushing inside, the man at my heels.
“Car hit him. Faint but steady pulse, wound on his hind quarters near his femoral artery.”
At his clipped words, I glanced over my shoulder, and even though his eyes held worlds of pain, his movements and words were efficient.
He must have medical training.
In most emergency situations, my clients would be in full panic, unable to respond clearly or in hysterics, and even though I could tell this man was emotionally invested in the dog hanging limply in his arms, he was holding it together. Which I appreciated, seeing I didn’t have an assistant to run interference with a distraught pet owner. Even as he laid his dog down on the table, I was reaching formy stethoscope to confirm his words about the pulse. Shifting through the soft fur at the dog’s chest, I was relieved to find it was still alive.
“Name?”
“Luch. Oh, sorry. Shite. Not me. His name is Oban.” The man cleared his throat even as he continued to maintain pressure on the wound on Oban’s hindquarters. “Oban is where I found him.”
I slid a hand under Oban’s gums to find them leaning more to gray-blue than pink, and I knew I had very little time to help. Needing a distraction for Luch, I tapped his hands.
“Have you had any medical training, Luch?” I winced when Luch removed his hands and I saw the rip in Oban’s flesh.
“Aye.” The word held enough grief to let me know he understood just how close we were to losing Oban. Determination fired. I had a soft spot for those in the medical profession, knowing how difficult it was to care for humans and animals, day in and day out, often with little thanks for the long hours and emotional toll.
“Great. There’s a storeroom at the back of the clinic. Let’s get Oban on an IV to provide some pain relief.” I was still inventorying the supplies and hoped we had enough of what we needed.Or enough to keep Luch busy until I healed as much of Oban as I could without causing suspicion.“See if there’s any methadone or medetomidine. Bandages. Saline. If you can gather that, I’ll get this cleaned up and take a closer look,” I said, praying he’d take enough time to start my healing and do what I could before he came back.
I was proud of my gift, but it wasn’t something I couldopenly share with others. My mother had dragged me out of more than one town in the middle of the night, with no chance to say goodbye to any friends I’d managed to make. By the time I was a teenager, I’d given up trying to meet new people and instead had buried my head in books, filling my time with making friends with animals. They never judged me. It was the honor of my life to be able to help them in my profession.
The minute Luch left the room, I closed my eyes and pulled the pain from Oban straight into me, without even taking the time to ground myself. There was no time. I found his life cord, his soul balancing precariously on the edge between here and the afterlife, and I reached for it gently, winding it around my finger as I would a ribbon, and tugged him delicately back from the veil. On the way, I knit a broken femur back together and closed enough of the rip in his skin to stem the flow of blood.
The wound had missed the femoral artery by a hair’s width, and I steadied my breath as I took Oban’s pain. Luckily, I couldn’t find any internal bleeding, and he must have been running at a fast pace when the car caught the corner of his body.
“I’ve got most of it,” Luch called from the storage room, “but I can’t find a suture kit.”
“I’ve got one here.” Blinking back to the room, I shuddered in a breath, and then another, knowing I’d pay for taking Oban’s pain and not releasing it. I’d do it later, but not before it left its mark. Usually in large unsightly bruises of some sort, but I didn’t mind. Not if it meant I could save another life.
Oban shifted on the table when Luch bounded back in,his arms full of supplies, which he promptly dropped on the table when Oban tried to get up.
“Hey, buddy. No, just lie there.” Luch’s eyes met mine when Oban let out a soft whimper, full of pain.
“Let’s get the pain meds in him and start sedation so I can stitch this up.”
“Do we need to sedate him?” Luch asked, hooking up the saline IV bag. He clearly knew what he was doing, so I took his question seriously.
“I wouldn’t typically suture a patient with this type of injury while awake, largely because I don’t enjoy getting bitten. Do you know if he’ll stay still? Can you restrain him?”
“I can. I’d like to avoid sedation if possible.” Luch crouched at Oban’s head, and the dog opened his eyes and gingerly swiped his tongue across Luch’s cheek. “Hey, bud. I need you to do me a favor.”
Luch’s voice dropped, and I cleaned the wound area while he murmured to Oban. He was a Scottish Terrier, a traditional black “Scottie” dog, which were known to be fiercely loyal. Grateful to see that my healing had done most of the work and there wouldn’t be much need for suturing, I threaded a needle and waited.
