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As she turned down her street, tires squealing, she contacted Warren telepathically. I need one of you to give him blood right away.
I’ll do it, unless blood-type matters.
Not with wolves. She knew at least that much about the species she disliked so much.
As she pulled into the garage, she hopped out of the truck. “Warren, you and your men haul him to the surgery while I get the transfusion equipment set up. This way.” She gestured with a flip of her arm in the direction of the double swinging doors.
She didn’t wait for Warren to say anything. She ran up the ramp and into the surgery and propped the doors open. She raced around and gathered tubing and needles. She locked in the feet of the surgical table to make sure it didn’t slide around. She could hear the men moving in her direction.
Seeing them levitate up the ramp, she called out, “In here.”
They carried him straight to the surgical table. Though she’d cared for great Danes on this table, it still wasn’t big enough for Fergus in his wolf form. One of the wolves held his hindquarters in both hands. She directed Warren to pull up a second smaller table and place it beneath Fergus’s hind end.
Afterward, she threw a rubber tourniquet in Warren’s direction. “Tie yourself up. I need a strong vein.”
“You got it.”
From the corner of her eye, she watched him wrap the rubber strip around his arm.
She ignored Fergus’s open, glassy-eyed look. He was hanging on by a thread, but he wasn’t dead yet. She quickly shaved his front right foreleg, then waved Warren in her direction.
She wasn’t messing around with cleaning anything up. Time was her enemy.
She inserted a needle into Fergus’s vein, though with difficulty. Not much blood was moving through his body.
Without once making eye-contact with Warren, she began the transfusing process. She complimented him on the size of his vein, drove the needle home and watched as gravity did its thing and Warren’s beautiful red blood began to flow along the tubing.
As soon as it reached Fergus’s vein, she felt a roll of energy move through the wolf’s body and the blood began to flow.
Her eyes started to burn, and her throat felt tight.
Warren’s wolf-voice sounded through the space. “This is a good sign, isn’t it? I mean, that the blood is going in.”
“It is. It’s the best.”
She took a moment to breathe and to give thanks for small miracles.
With the most critical element in place, she began a careful examination of Fergus’s body. She quickly discovered the broken ribs. She couldn’t imagine what had done this kind of damage.
With Fergus unconscious, she felt the individual ribs then carefully pulled each one back into place. There was no way she could perform any kind of surgery, not with how close he was to death. But she also knew that as soon as he was able, he could self-heal the bones. Her greater concern was making sure his lungs weren’t torn up.
As more of Warren’s blood flowed into his system, she watched Fergus take a decent breath, then another and another. Her sense of relief increased.
But she remembered what Fergus had told her about being skewered. She ordered Warren to stay put and got her ultrasound equipment.
Once again, she shaved Fergus, though this time on his chest. Using the gel, she ran her wand over the area that allowed her to see his heart.
“Why are you doing that?” Warren asked.
“Something Fergus told me about how he was injured. I understand there was a dominance battle.”
“Yes. Sydon, a rogue alpha, challenged him. I was sure Fergus could take him. I wasn’t there during the battle, but I was on the phone with one of his betas and got a blow-by-blow. Sydon caught Fergus below the sternum with a heavy right punch, or at least that’s what we thought it was. Fergus seized while in the air, fell, then shifted, which indicated he’d been badly wounded. Sydon went in for the kill and punched at his head, then jumped on his ribs. I don’t know how Fergus survived.”
She kept moving the wand over his heart, and there it was—a small perforation, partially healed but leaking blood. “Well, here’s the problem. He was stuck with a metal implement, like a large needle, straight into the bottom of his heart.”
The atmosphere in the room changed, as surely as if electricity poured through the space. The air smelled harsh like heated metal and came from the wolves.
Warren’s voice dropped an octave as he said, “Are you
