Wild Country

by Anne Bishop

  She jerked the revolver skyward to avoid shooting Joshua Painter as the dog grabbed the boy’s left arm, exposing its own belly. Joshua’s right hand lashed out, and the claws on the specially made leather glove ripped the dog’s belly open.

  Jana took a step toward the fight still taking place on the other side of the square. One dog ran toward her, trying to flee from the Wolves’ attack. Before she could take aim, smoke raced above the ground and overtook the dog. Hands formed, grabbed the dog, and snapped its neck. When the dog dropped, the smoke shifted into Tolya Sanguinati.

  Silence, followed by a savage, furious snarl.

  And then a lone Wolf howled.

  Jana looked back. The dogs she’d shot were dead or dying. Either way, they were no longer a threat. Neither was the dog Joshua had gutted. But the boy . . .

  “Joshua?” She kept her gun lowered but ready as she studied the savage expression in those gray-ringed green eyes. “You okay?”

  He rose from his crouched position over the dog. His eyes took in her badge, her gun, and . . .

  She knew Rusty had returned before she felt the pup press against her leg. She crouched, her eyes never leaving Joshua’s face, and rested one hand on the pup. She didn’t know where Rusty had gone, if the pup had stayed near her or had run and now returned. She’d been focused on keeping them alive.

  “It’s okay, girl. It’s okay. You okay?” She risked a quick glance at the pup. No blood. A quick feel revealed no injuries that she could detect.

  “She belongs to you?”

  She stopped the instinctive move of raising the gun. In that moment of distraction, Joshua had closed the distance between them without making a sound.

  He might be human, but he’d been raised by the Panthergard and was, in his own way, just as much a predator as the terra indigene. That was something she couldn’t afford to forget.

  “Yes, she’s mine,” Jana replied.

  He nodded. “She stayed close. Would have died if you hadn’t been a good predator, but she stayed close.” He met Jana’s eyes. “Loves you.”

  She swallowed hard. Did his being an Intuit make his certainty more powerful? “Your arm?”

  He held up the left arm and gave her a feral smile that made her shiver. From wrist to elbow he wore a quilted sleeve over his shirt. Thick, puffy thing—slimmer than the suits officers wore when training dogs for police work, but it had done the trick.

  “Might have bruises,” Joshua said as he considered the arm. Then he shrugged.

  A Wolf howled again.

  Jana sprang to her feet. Only one Wolf howling—and many terra indigene flying toward the spot where the Wolfgard had fought the dogs.

  “Jana!” Barb ran toward her from the direction of the diner, then skidded to a stop when she saw the dogs. “Oh.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh.”

  “They were enemies,” Joshua said, his voice hard.

  “I know, I know.” Barb wiped the tears off her face, then paled as she stared at the bloody, clawed glove on Joshua’s hand and understood what it meant.

  Looking at Barb’s face, Jana understood the dogs weren’t the only thing that had died on the square that morning. She wouldn’t be surprised if the stack of romances about the wild man tamed by love were quietly returned to the book-sorting room.

  “Barb,” Jana said softly.

  Barb sniffed. “Is Rusty okay?”

  “Yeah. Can you take her to the office for me? I need to check on Virgil and Kane.”

  “Sure.” Hooking a couple of fingers under Rusty’s collar, Barb led the pup to the sheriff’s office. Joshua watched her go but didn’t follow.

  Jana holstered her gun and ran to the other side of the square.

  * * *

  * * *

  With a furious snarl, Virgil tore out the throat of the last enemy. Then he howled.

  We are here. A message to the other terra indigene who had joined the fight as well as a message to the Elders. We are here.

  The Wolves had needed to meet the enemy pack, so he’d ignored the gunshots coming from the building where the horses lived. And he’d heard another gun being fired in the square. He needed to find the rest of the fighters, but first . . .

 

  Virgil leaped over the bodies of the dead dogs to reach his brother, who struggled to stand on three legs. Kane’s left hip was ripped and bloody—was still bleeding.

  Standing next to Kane so his brother could lean against him, Virgil howled again—this time, a cry for help. In the wild country, the Wolfgard would have licked the wound to clean it, would have found the safest place for a packmate to rest—and if their pack didn’t have a bodywalker who had learned how to set bones and close up wounds, they would have hunted for their wounded, starving themselves if game was scarce.

  But here the Wolfgard were too few, and the dogs had been many, despite the Wolves receiving help from the Sanguinati.

  “Virgil? Kane?”

  Virgil watched Jana as she ran toward them, as Tolya Sanguinati headed toward them.

  They were few, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have a pack.

  Movement coming from the side. Virgil turned his head and snarled.

  Tobias Walker, his gun still in his hand, stopped moving. Raising one hand, he carefully holstered his weapon.

  “Anyone hurt?” Tobias asked.

  “Kane,” Jana said. “Gods, he’s bleeding.”

  Her voice sounded . . . strange. High. Not like the wolverine who challenged him all the time.

  “I called the vet for another reason,” Tolya said. “He’ll be at his clinic now.”

  “My truck is at the livery stable,” Tobias said. “I’ll throw a couple of blankets in the bed for padding. We’ll get him there.”

  “I have the official vehicle,” Jana said.

  “Let Tobias Walker drive,” Tolya said.

  Something in the Sanguinati’s voice warned that there would be no discussion—and that made Virgil look closer at the wolverine. No blood on her. He hadn’t noticed her having trouble moving. But Tolya recognized there was something not right about her. He couldn’t put a word to what he sensed, but he agreed.

  Tobias ran to fetch the truck.

  Even using the terra indigene form of communication, Kane sounded weak.

  He knew that. He didn’t like it, not with Kane so hurt, but he knew it.

 

  Yes. She wasn’t a Wolf, but she was a member of their pack.

  Tolya met his eyes, then looked at Jana. “Virgil needs to help me deal with this. You should go with Kane and Tobias.”

  Jana nodded. “What about the other thing you wanted me to do?”

  “Stewart Dixon isn’t here yet. Scythe will look after the females until you return and are ready to talk to them.”

  Crowgard cawed a warning moments before Tobias appeared with the truck. The Intuit drove carefully, turning the truck around so that the back was close to the Wolves. Tobias hopped out and opened the tailgate.

  Tolya stepped forward. “I’ll lift Kane into the truck.” The Sanguinati smiled, showing a hint of fang. “He’s heavy.”

  Tobias eyed Kane and nodded.

  It was easy to forget the Sanguinati were strong. As smoke, they did not look strong, even if they could outrun Wolves in that form. But Tolya lifted Kane and set him on the tailgate before shifting to a form between human and smoke and flowing into the bed of the pickup to help Kane take a few staggering steps to the blankets Tobias had piled up as a nest.

  Jana did a twisty hop that ended with her sitting on the tailgate. She scooted over to Kane, one hand resting on his shoulder as he lowered his h
ead to her thigh and sighed.

  Tobias looked at Virgil. “We’ll look after him.”

  He had to trust. But he waited until Tolya was the only one close enough to hear him before he let out a quiet, distressed whine.

  CHAPTER 22

  Moonsday, Messis 20

  “You should clean those wounds,” Tolya said quietly. “I don’t think Deputy Jana noticed because your wounds aren’t as serious as Kane’s, but you should take care of them before she shakes off her distress over the fight and sees you again.” A pause. “Do you need help?”

  Virgil stood absolutely still. There had been no Sanguinati where he’d lived before. With the exception of John Wolfgard, none of the shifters now living in Bennett had had any experience with that form of terra indigene. But Simon Wolfgard worked with one of the Sanguinati, even ran a bookstore with him.

  He had no reason not to trust Tolya, but being around other strong predators when he was hurt made him uneasy.

  Tolya nodded as if he understood the reason behind the words and would have given the same answer. “We have humans coming in from a ranch and another problem that needs to be addressed. If you can shift to your human form without doing harm to yourself, I would appreciate it.”

 

  “I’ll arrange to have the carcasses picked up. They’re meat?”

  He considered the humans whose lives brushed against his.

  “Best if Barbara Ellen and Deputy Jana don’t have to look at that particular truth today.”

  The wolverine had sounded squeaky, but she would shake that off, and once she did, he didn’t need her snarling at him today.

  Leaving Tolya, Virgil trotted across the square. He stopped to sniff the ground and the dogs he found within sight of the sheriff’s office. One was gutted; three were shot. The largest of the dogs had a hole in its chest and a bloody straight line along its shoulder that looked too shallow to have done more than annoy the dog. But the three dogs told him why the wolverine had sounded squeaky. She’d been in her own fight and had stood her ground.

  He crossed the street to the sheriff’s office, then shifted his front paws enough to open the door. He stepped inside and stopped.

  Kneeling in front of Rusty’s crate, Barbara Ellen twisted around to look at him.

  “Oh, Virgil.”

  She didn’t say anything else, so he went into the bathroom and, once again, shifted his front paws enough to turn on the water in the shower cubicle. Then he stood there in his Wolf form, letting water wash away the enemies’ blood and wash out his wounds. The wounds hurt, but none of them were crippling and most weren’t that deep.

  He was big enough and strong enough—and skilled enough—to bring down a half-grown bison by himself, tearing at its legs until it collapsed. Even so, he and Kane had been outnumbered by dogs that also knew how to fight. They would have lost this fight on their own. He knew it. So did Tolya. But the Sanguinati had entered the fight. So had the Eagles and Hawks.

  So had the wolverine.

  Once he was clean as a Wolf, he shifted to his human form and washed that too. The wounds looked worse on a human body. Why was that? But looking at his arms reminded him that he hadn’t heard from the other member of the Wolfgard pack.

 

 

 

 

  Shutting off the water, Virgil patted himself dry. Finding a healing ointment in the medicine chest, he dabbed some on the wounds he could reach. There were tears in the flesh on his back that might benefit from the human medicine, but he couldn’t reach those. He considered asking Barbara Ellen to help, then decided against it and put the ointment back in the medicine chest.

  Once he was dressed in his usual jeans and shirt, he stepped into the front part of the office. Barbara Ellen had left a pink message on the floor in front of Rusty’s crate, saying she had to feed the other animals.

  Virgil knelt as he opened the crate, then sat back on his heels. Rusty came to him and licked his face, so glad to see him. But he knew she was looking for someone else too.

  “Your mom has to help Kane right now.” He buried his hands in the puppy’s fur. “I guess this was her first real fight, and maybe she was afraid. But she stood for you, kept you safe.”

  His mate would have fought to protect their pups, along with the rest of their pack. Hadn’t made a difference in the end. Too many of the enemy with weapons that could bring down bison. There had been only Wolfgard there in that remote spot that should have been safe since they’d had limited contact with humans.

  Not safe enough.

  “In you go, pup.” After coaxing Rusty into her crate, Virgil hesitated before opening the bottom drawer of the wolverine’s desk, taking out the plastic tub, and removing one of the chewing treats. It was shaped like a bone—but not like any bone he’d ever seen—and was supposed to be tasty. He’d eaten one when the wolverine wasn’t around and decided that if dogs thought those things were tasty, there was something wrong with dogs.

  But the pup wagged her tail and made happy sounds when he opened the door wide enough to give her the treat.

  “Don’t tell your mom.”

  Putting the tub back in the drawer and making sure the crate door was secured, Virgil left the office so that the citizens of Bennett could see what would tear out the throat of any threat, whether that threat was a dog or a human.

  * * *

  * * *

  Tolya watched John Wolfgard and Yuri Sanguinati toss the carcasses into the back of a pickup. Then he scanned the street. Most of the humans had been inside their shops or hadn’t reported to work yet. That was good. The fewer humans who saw proof of what the terra indigene could do, the less fear would scent the air and excite the predators among them. And since half of Bennett’s residents were predators, it was better if the other half didn’t turn themselves into scent lures.

  Scythe crossed the street, not even glancing at the dead dogs. Their life force was already spent, so they held no interest for her.

  “Should I have fought?” she asked. “I was close enough, but I thought the Wolves would see and . . .”

  “And die,” Tolya finished for her. “You were right to stay out of it.”

  “What about the females who need protection?”

  “They’ll be here soon.”

  As Scythe headed back to the Bird Cage Saloon, Candice Caravelli and Lila Gold piled out of a taxi and hurried to follow Scythe.

  As soon as those two females left the taxi, Dawn Werner ran out of the saloon and waved her arms at the driver, followed by her limping mate, who had a scarf wrapped around the calf of one leg.

  “Dog bite?” Virgil asked, coming up beside Tolya.

  “Looks that way. I had called the doctor about another matter. He will be in his office soon, if he’s not there already.” Wondering what had happened to the puppy the woman had been holding, Tolya watched the two humans get in the taxi, which sped toward the medical building on the other side of the square. “There are things we need to discuss, but they can wait until Stewart Dixon arrives.”

  “What is there to discuss?”

  “The face of a potential enemy.”

  * * *

  * * *

  The vet and Tobias used one of the blankets to carry Kane into a treatment room. Jana watched, not sure what she was supposed to do.

  “Should we ste
p out?” she asked, pointing to herself and Tobias.

  “No,” the vet said too quickly.

  Well, she couldn’t fault the man for wanting familiar humans in the room with Kane. Patching up one of the Wolfgard after a fight wouldn’t be a usual part of the vet’s training.

  “I’d like to use anesthesia . . . ,” the vet began.

  Kane swung around, snapping and snarling, and would have fallen off the table if Jana and Tobias hadn’t grabbed the Wolf.

  “That’s not an option,” she said, hoping she sounded official.

  “But I need to shave the fur around the wounds and . . .”

  Kane’s snarls became more threat than warning, and the vet stepped back from the table.

  Jana felt sorry for the man. He couldn’t use a muzzle or any other kind of restraint to keep himself and his patient safe. But working on Kane, who was already hurt and upset, with no kind of restraint? She wouldn’t do it.

  Of course, she was the one holding on to both of Kane’s front legs, which put her hands and forearms in easy reach of those big sharp teeth.

  She was an idiot.

  “Vet’s right about shaving the area around the wounds,” Tobias said. “Doctors shave the hair around a wound on humans too. That sucks, but sometimes it needs to be done.”

  “Stitching the wounds will hurt.” The vet was still standing back from the table.

  “What about a local anesthetic? The objection is about feeling vulnerable, right?” Tobias’s first question was for the vet. The second was directed at Kane, who replied with a grunt and growl. “A local would numb the area around the wounds that need to be stitched and make it easier for everyone, but Kane would still know what’s going on around him.” Now he looked at Jana.

  Since Kane couldn’t speak for himself without shifting—and that didn’t seem like a good idea right now—she, being his fellow deputy, was apparently his medical proxy.

  “Local anesthetic.” She looked at Kane. Was she imagining the fear in his eyes? Remembering why Kane and Virgil were the only survivors of their original pack, she added, “I’ll stay here and keep watch.”