Page 11 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

“Who knows? Maybe he went up in the attic or climbed out on the roof.”

“To look for a coyote? With a broken arm?”

Cal’s deep chuckle resonated down the hall. “I see you don’t know my brother very well yet.”

The door opened, then banged shut as Cal steered our guest outside, blocking the rest of their conversation. I waited a moment, then laid my head down on my paws. I could have shifted and gone out, put an end to Wyatt’s questions—but I didn’t want to, just in case they came back in for something. We didn’t need the coyote “escaping” a second time.

“You fucking idiot,” Cal hissed when he stormed back inside nearer to sunset.

“What?” I asked from the pan I was babysitting over the stove. I’d shifted back about an hour ago, figuring Wyatt was long gone and I’d better get dinner on or Cal’d have my head.

“He’s suspicious as fuck,” Cal grumped, leaning back againstthe counter and folding his arms. He glowered at me.

I rolled my eyes and hefted the saltshaker, dumping a liberal amount onto the potatoes I was frying. I wasn’t much of a cook, but I knew my way around a potato or two. “What, am I supposed to hold my shift twenty-four seven,just in casethe vet decides to show up?”

Cal scowled. “No,” he said finally. “But you might have guessed.”

“The last two days, he’s visited around supper time, not two in the afternoon,” I grumbled.

Cal shifted. “Maybe we can get him to call ahead,” he said.

“Maybe we can just get him to stop visiting,” I said, then clamped my mouth shut. The words left a bitter taste on my tongue.

Cal glanced at me. “He ain’t gonna stop until he’s satisfied his patient’s all healed up.”

I waved my arm, which was going stiff from being in the sling. “I’m healing up pretty good. I think I’ll be right as rain in another day or two.”

It was true; shifter healing abilities allowed us to recover much faster than a mere human would. It was pretty handy when you lived in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farm accidents waiting to happen.

Cal sighed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll try to get him to call ahead for the next couple of days, though. He clearly doesn’t know about our kind, and we’re not gonna be the ones to let it slip either.”

I sucked in a breath. I knew better than to argue with Cal, especially about something like this. Still. “I’m pretty sure he’s an omega,” I said.

Cal paused. I ignored him, dumping the potatoes out of the frying pan into a serving bowl. Then I leaned down to check on the ribs, which were sizzling away in the oven.

“How do you figure?” Cal asked when I straightened up again.

I frowned. “Can’t you smell him?”

Cal pursed his lips, then shook his head. “Oh, great,” I muttered, “maybe my sniffer’s busted too.”

Cal gave me a funny look. He scratched at his cheek, then heaved a sigh and pushed away from the counter. “Right, well. Omega or not, he doesn’t seem to know, and my point stands. Wearen’tgonna be the ones who let him in on the secret. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, sliding on oven mitts and diving in after the ribs. “I hear ya.”

Wyatt

There was something strange going on at rocky ridge, i was sure of that much.

The day after the coyote escape incident, Vern appeared in the doorway to my rented room, leaning nonchalantly on the doorframe. “Hey,” he said.

I glanced up from my laptop, then popped out my Air Pods. “Yeah?”

Vern gave me a nod. “Just heard from Cal Carlyle,” he said, and my stomach sank like a stone.

I hadn’t told Vern anything about the coyote. He’d asked why I’d been so late the last few nights, but I’d told him the rounds had taken longer than I’d thought they were going to. Vern seemed satisfied with that answer—maybe he figured it made sense, given how green I was.

“I, um,” I started.