Page 4 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

“Get going!” Bobby roared, even as I lunged forward, shouting, “Wait!”

The beast didn’t heed me; instead, it bounded off into the ditch on the other side of the laneway, the tall, dead grass rustling after it. A minute later, we saw it trotting away over the fields, quick as it could go. Even from this distance, I thought I could see it limping.

Bobby lowered the gun slowly, still trembling. Vern put a hand on the farmer’s shoulder. Bobby screwed his eyes shut. “Goddamn,” he huffed. “Lord knows I don’t like doing that, but that damned ’yote’s been around here almost every night for two weeks.”

“Hasn’t taken any of the sheep though?” Vern sounded almost … amused?

“It’s the damnedest thing, Vern. Damn thing can jump the fence and carry on, but none of the girls have come to any harm. Well, other than being scared stiff, but there ain’t a scratch on ’em.”

“Hmm,” Vern said, and I thought I saw the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“I can’t figure it,” Bobby said.

“Well,” Vern said, glancing out over the fields, “I doubt you’ll see him for a good long while now.”

“Huh,” Bobby huffed. He hefted the gun. “I better put this up and check on the girls. All that noise probably upset ’em.”

Vern nodded, turning to me. “Let’s get on home,” he said. “You got a place to stay?”

“Er,” I said. “Not … not yet.”

“Right.” He nodded once. “I’ll make up the guest room when we get in.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“It’s almost one in the morning, Wyatt. You’d have to drive into town, and the hotel isn’t gonna put ya up tonight. We’ll get yousorted tomorrow.”

“Er. Thanks,” I said, trailing him back to the truck. He waved a hand and clambered in.

I glanced back over my shoulder, to where I’d last seen the coyote. The horizon was empty now, the night tranquil once more. With a sigh, I climbed into the truck and slammed the door.

Cam

Ow, ow, ow,” i hissed under my breath, gritting my teeth as i pulled the bullet out of my shoulder. blood spattered all over the counter as i dropped it into a bowl.

“Cam?”

Ah, shit. I didn’t say anything, though, as Cal kicked the bathroom door wide open. He stared at me for a second, taking in the scene before him. “You just can’t help yourself, huh?”

I sucked in a breath, then dropped the tweezers I was holding into the sink. Cal considered, then graciously got a towel from the linen closet at the end of the hall. He handed it to me without a word, which was somehow worse than him telling me what a colossal fucking idiot I was.

I mean, I already knew. It had been stupid to go up to the Wilkinson place. It was worse because I’d told Cal that very afternoon that I’dtry, and there I was, just a few hours later …

I’d dropped the check off at town hall, then headed out of town and shifted. I’d figured the run would do me good. And it had. I felt more like myself than I had in weeks.

Then, on my way home, I’d been trotting along the fence between properties, and I’d smelled blood. Fresh blood.

I hadn’t ever hurt one of the sheep; I just liked to chase them a little, which wasn’t great for them, sure. But I ate at home, and I didn’t need to kill, even if the coyote in me had a prey drive. I was just bored, and who could blame me? There wasn’t much to do in Coyote Creek—never had been.

But blood meant something was wrong; I wasn’t under the illusion I was the only shifter in town. And other beasts, like rogue wolves, sometimes caused trouble around the ranches.

So I’d trotted up to the farm, intending to check on the flock. Vern the vet was there, along with some scrawny white boy I didn’t recognize. And I guessed I’d been distracted by the new guy’s shocked hazel gaze, because Bobby had fucking shot me. Normally, I would have dodged out of the way—shifter reflexes and all—but I’d been too slow.

Cal crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “So, what did you learn from all this, Cam?”

I hissed as I put the towel, now doused with antiseptic, to the wound in my shoulder. “Not much,” I muttered, and Cal rolled his eyes.

“Cameron,” he started.